Lost in Shadows
by SandyDee84
Summary: Jonny dies in a motorcycle accident. His family mourns, but just as they are moving on, new evidence is reavealed, and all may not be as it seems
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this series, nor am i making any money off of this. Jonny Quest is a registered trademark (although I'm not sure if credit goes to Hannah-Barbara, Waner Bros, Cartoon Network or all of the above.)

Authors Note: So, this is my first time doing anything like this. I hope you take a chance to read and review. Feedback is welcome, but please say something nice as well. Just a little history - this is TRA timeline, but I've kept some Classic elements (Race still works for I-1). If I've made any mistakes about the series, i apologize. I'm a fan, but don't know all the minutia. Please enjoy!

Jonathan Quest stifled a yawn as the last of the fireworks faded from the sky. He was glad to be watching them from his dorm roof. He'd thought about going down to Times Square with a bunch of friends, but fighting the crowds did not seem like a fun way to spend New Year's Eve. In the end they had all decided to take the party to the roof and ring in the New Year there.

Now that the fireworks were over, everyone else was packing up, eager to get in out of the cold. Jonny stood off to the side, hands in his pockets, as he looked out over the NYU campus. It was his second year here, and he loved every minute. It was nice to feel like a normal kid for once, even if he was expected to check in with Race Bannon, his bodyguard, at least once a week. Race had been with his family since his mother, Rachel, died and was more like an uncle then a bodyguard. When Jonny went away to college, his father, the world famous Dr. Benton Quest, had briefly considered sending Race with him; Jonny pleaded for two days before his dad relented.

"Hey, Quest, you coming or what?" one of the party goers hollered at him.

He jumped slightly and looked around. Everyone else had gone back inside, except for the guy holding the door. Jonny grinned sheepishly, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes, and sprinted across the roof. He grabbed a cup of tea on his way to his room. He was chilled through and wanted to get a good night's sleep. He was taking his motorcycle down the coast to Florida tomorrow and needed an early start. A couple of college buddies rented a house down there over the break and invited Jonny along. He had said no because he was supposed to spend his winter break up in Maine, but that all fell apart a few days ago.

Two days after Christmas Dr. Quest was unexpectedly called to Tokyo. They were hoping it would only be for a few days, but he called Jonny shortly after landing to apologize; the problem was going to take at least a week to deal with, probably more. His adopted brother, Hadji, left to spend time with his mother in Bangalore, and Jessie's mom called up out of the blue and invited her down to South America. Jessie was Race's daughter and spent most of her free time with her dad and the Quests, so she jumped at an opportunity to spend time with her mom. Race was with Dr. Quest, which left Jonny all alone in the massive house in Maine. Everyone offered to take him with them, but he had declined and headed back to school. A few weeks in Florida sounded fun, and he was looking forward to getting out of the cold and picking up a nice tan before classes started again.

* * *

_The next day_

Dusk was falling and Jonny was just crossing out of Maryland into Virginia. He had slept through his alarm and then sat in traffic for almost three hours on the Jersey Turnpike. He was supposed to spend the night in Kitty Hawk so he could drive down the Outer Banks but now he was not sure he could last another four hours on his bike. He loved his motorcycle, and, fortunately, the weather had been amazing all day, but his back was starting to hurt. He smiled to himself. He did not usually win arguments with his dad, and the motorcycle had been a big one. He had spent his first year at school with no transportation and had to bum rides off dorm mates if he wanted to go some place the subway didn't reach.

"Jonny, I don't want you getting a motorcycle," Benton Quest said firmly. "They're dangerous."

"But, Dad," he'd argued, "I need someway to get around. A car isn't practical in the city. I've already taken a motorcycle safety course."

Benton looked at him with raised eyebrows, "You have?"

Jonny dropped his blue eyes to the carpet, "They offer it every weekend on campus." He paused for a minute before trying one last play, "Race thinks it's a fine idea."

He tried to hide his smile at his dad's shocked face. Race was the last person on earth Benton thought would side with Jonny on this. In the end, he had given in and Jonny went back to school in August riding his brand new bike. He'd left it at school when he went home for Christmas; a blizzard was supposed to hit Maine and his dad did not want him to get caught in it. Instead, Race flew down and picked him up in one of the company jets. Jonny never minded a chance to help Race fly, but he missed being able to come and go as he pleased.

The last streaks of color faded from the sky as Jonny approached Fredericksburg. He stopped long enough to fill the gas tank and grab some jerky before hitting the road again. If he was lucky he might make it down to Williamsburg before finding a place to stay. Suddenly he groaned and pulled up short. The highway ahead was a mass of flashing lights and orange cones. Traffic crawled for a mile until Jonny finally saw the detour sign. He groaned again when he saw it was detouring them west, towards Charlottesville. Reluctantly he followed the other cars off the interstate and onto a rural highway. If the sun was shining, he would have enjoyed the scenery, but the darkness and desolation made him uneasy. To make matters worse, his GPS battery had died back in New Jersey, and for some strange reason, the adaptor cord was not in its usual place. He kept his eyes peeled in the night, looking for another detour sign to hopefully take him back to the highway. There! He sighed in relief as he finally saw it. The road he turned on had even fewer cars on it then the last, and he shivered slightly. Something suddenly slammed into the back of his bike; Jonny's head snapped back from the impact sending shooting pain through his neck and head. He fought to regain control of the bike, narrowly avoiding one of the jutting rocks that had begun to spring up with alarming frequency. He could hear whatever was behind him revving up for another hit and gunned his bike to try and outrun them. He looked back quickly and saw a black van behind him with no lights; he whipped his head front and saw the turn too late to slow down and he threw his body to the side, praying his tired would not slide. He had almost made it when the van rammed his back tire, sending the bike, with Jonny on it, through the guardrail into the gully below. Jonny felt his body bounce like a pinball off two or three boulders before hitting the ground. His head exploded in pain, and he welcomed the darkness as consciousness left him. On the road above, the black van stopped long enough to fling something out of the driver's window towards the mangled bike before driving off.


	2. Chapter 2

_One week later_

Benton Quest sighed in relief as he settled back in a plush armchair. The Quest jets were as comfortable as a plane could be, but he was glad to be home after the eighteen hour flight back from Tokyo. The doorbell rang and he groaned slightly. "Whoever it is, I am not home," he called to Race. Race opened the door and was surprised to see the Rockport sheriff.

"Evening, Sam," Race drawled. "What brings you all the way out here?"

Sheriff Sam Elliot gave Race a half-smile, "I wish it was a social call, Race. Is Dr. Quest here?"

"Yes, sir. Come on in," Race closed the door and gestured towards the living room, "He's in there."

Benton smiled as Sheriff Elliot walked in the room. Standing, he held out his hand, "It's good to see you again, Sam. Please, sit down."

The Sheriff returned the handshake, but did not sit. He stood where he was, shifting nervously from foot to foot not saying anything. Race and Benton exchanged worried looks.

Race leaned forward and put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "What's the trouble, Sam? We're here to help."

Sam stared at the floor in silence for another moment before asking softly, "Is Jonny home?"

Benton was taken aback, "No, he went back to NYU last week. Why?"

Sam ignored the question, "So, he's currently in New York City?"

Benton tried to suppress his growing anxiety, "As far as I know. What's this all about Sam?"

The Sheriff began to relax as Benton spoke but stiffened again when Race spoke up, "No, Jonny went to Florida."

Benton looked at Race in confusion, "Florida?"

"That's what he said the last time we talked. Apparently some college buddies rented a house in Miami and invited Jonny down. After you, Jessie, and Hadji left, he decided to drive down and join them."

Sam had grown visibly agitated as Race talked and began pacing the floor. Benton walked over to him and put his shaking hands on the sheriff's shoulders.

"Sam, please," he whispered, his voice trembling, "tell me what's going on."

Sam looked Benton in the eye, "I just got a call from the Virginia State Trooper's office. They found a smashed up motorcycle in a gully halfway between Fredericksburg and Charlottesville. There was a body ..." He paused as Benton collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands. Race perched on the couch arm and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

Sam swallowed hard. He had known the Quest family for years and considered Benton and Race friends. He had watch Jonny, Hadji, and Jessie grow up and even gave Jonny his first speeding ticket. He shook his head as he looked around. _No parent should have to go through this_ he thought.

Benton finally looked up, haggard and grief-stricken. "Tell me everything, Sam," he managed to choke out.

Sam continued to pace, "There was a body next to the bike. ID in the wallet says Jonathan Quest, but the Virginia State Troopers would like you to make a positive identification, if you're up to it."

Benton nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Race was trying to hold his emotions in check, but something was bothering him.

"Something doesn't add up for me, Sam." The sheriff looked at Race with one eyebrow slight raised, silently encouraging him to continue. "Jonny planned to head to Florida on New Year's Day - a week ago. From what he told me, I got the impression he was going to be there until school started. I don't understand how he ended up in Virginia. Maybe this biker stole Jonny's wallet?"

Sam held up his hand and shook his head. He looked back and forth at the two men, trying to determine how much Dr. Quest was able to handle.

Benton sensed his hesitation. "Waiting to tell us isn't going to make it any easier."

Sam finally sat down and rested his arms on his knees. From this vantage point, he was eye level with Dr. Quest. "Troopers think the accident is at least five days old, possibly even a week."

Benton sat straight up, fire in his eyes, "And they're just telling us now?!"

Sam shook his head, "Apparently the accident happened on a pretty desolate stretch of highway. No one reported it until yesterday."

Benton dropped his head back into his hands, all the fire gone out of him. _Jonny's been lying out there for a week_. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head, but they kept coming fast and thick. _Was he alive after the crash? Did he try to call?_

Sam seemed to read his mind and continued talking, "The coroner said death was most likely instantaneous. They've ruled it an accident. It looks like he took the corner too fast and crashed through the guardrail."

He stood up and grabbed his hat, "I'm sorry, Benton, I really am. Jonny was a good kid." He turned to Race, "When should I tell them to expect you?"

Race shot a quick look at Benton before answering, "First thing tomorrow morning."


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was barely above the horizon as Race gently brought the jet in for a landing in Richmond. Normally he loved flying, especially in the early morning, but the flight from Maine had been long and quiet. Benton had not said a word since they took off and spent the whole flight staring out of the window. He looked like he had aged twenty years in a single night. Race had contemplated calling Hadji, but there was no way the boy could make it to Richmond from Bangalore before Race and Benton arrived. Besides, he knew Hadji needed to hear the news from his father, not from Race, and Benton was not going to make that call without seeing for himself.

Race pulled the rental car up outside the county morgue. He had called Phil Corvan, the director of I-1, last night and explained the situation. Phil pulled some strings and made sure people would be at the morgue early to take care of them. Race was anxious to do this before the press got a hold of the story. He did not think Benton would survive a hungry mob of reporters in his condition. Sure enough, a woman in a black suit was standing outside the entrance, staring expectantly at their car.

Race looked over at his friend, "Are you ready for this?"

Benton nodded and climbed out of the car, not trusting himself to speak. The person standing by the door called out to them, "Mr. Bannon? Dr. Quest? This way please." She held the door open and motioned them inside, taking care to lock it behind her. She extended her hand to Race first, then Benton, "Mr. Bannon, Dr. Quest, my name is Sylvia Brown. I'm with I-1. Director Corvin told me to give you anything you need."

Sylvia strolled down the hallway with both men close behind, "The trooper who was first on the scene, Alain Marxx, is upstairs. Director Corvin said you'd probably want to talk to him. The coroner is downstairs, waiting for us." She shot Benton a sympathetic look, "I figured you'd want to see her first."

The coroner, a brunette in her early fifties, was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. Sylvia introduced her as Dr. Catherine Aldo.

Benton felt his knees begin to shake when he saw the morgue doors. He had barely managed to hold himself together, hoping beyond hope that this was all a big mistake; that when they pulled back the sheet it would not be Jonny's face he saw. But actually being here and knowing what waited beyond those doors was more then he could take. He sank into one of the chairs that dotted the hallway and dropped his head into his hands with moan that chilled Race to the core.

He turned to the women, "Could you give us a minute, please?"

Dr. Aldo nodded and took Sylvia's arm, guiding her through the doors, leaving the two men alone in the hallway. Race sat in a chair close to the door; from there he could keep an eye on his friend without intruding.

Sooner then expected, Benton stood up and squaring his shoulders, strode purposefully towards the swinging doors. He walked right by Race without a sideways glance, afraid that if he looked away from the doors, he would not be able to summon the courage he needed to walk through them. The doors swung shut behind him, and he was struck by the smell of antiseptic. He remembered that smell from long ago; the last time he had ever set foot in a morgue. _Rachel_, he thought. Phil Corvin had not wanted him to see her body; she had been beaten so savagely that there was not much left to identify. He had respected their wishes; he had not looked at her, but he had to be near her, if only for a few moments. He had slipped away while Race and Phil were handling the reporters and found his way to the morgue. His wife was still laying on one of the tables with a sheet draped over her. It took all his will power not to pull it back, but he knew the Rachel that lay on that table was not _his_ Rachel; not the Rachel who loved the laugh and play with their little boy. In the end, he just knelt down next to the table and buried his face in the sheet, weeping, until Race found him an hour later. He had vowed to never set foot in a morgue again, a vow he had kept faithfully, until today.

He started when someone touched his shoulder; he was surprised to see Dr. Aldo standing next to him, her face full of sympathy. Race and Sylvia stood to one side watching him with obvious concern. Benton took a few deep breaths to collect himself.

"Please take me to my son," he quietly asked the coroner.

She nodded and crossed the room briskly, all business. After checking a clipboard on the wall, she finally stopped in front of one of the many stainless steel doors covering the wall. She opened it and slid the drawer out. The body was completely covered by a sheet, and she waited for Benton, Race and Sylvia to gather around her before she pulled it back, folding it down just enough to uncover the face.

Benton closed his eyes and balled his fists as the doctor uncovered the corpse. He could not bring himself to look; once he opened his eyes, he could not deny the truth any longer. He had no doubt that when he did finally look he would see his son, but until that last piece of empirical evidence was in front of him, he had room to hope.

"Benton…Benton," Race's voice cut into his thoughts. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at his friend.

Race's eyes were swimming with tears, and Benton had his answer. He knew there was only one reason Race would be crying. Taking a deep breath he looked down.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Benton noticed was how calm his son looked. _Calm_ he thought. _Not a word I ever thought would describe Jonny_. His son had always been a tornado, always in motion and usually leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He had not been prepared for how normal Jonny looked. Between the accident and exposure to the elements, Benton had been preparing himself for something grotesque, but the face in front him simply looked asleep. He thrust his hands in his pockets to keep himself from shaking the body, willing Jonny to wake up.

"Dr. Quest?" He was startled to find Dr. Aldo standing right next to him. In those few moments he had forgotten there was anyone else in the room.

"Dr Quest, is this your son?" Dr. Aldo asked, point blank.

Benton smiled sadly and nodded, "Yes, this is Jonathan."

Dr. Aldo nodded and moved forward to pull the sheet back up, but Race grabbed her hand, a puzzled look on his face. He grabbed the sheet and pulled it down, uncovering Jonny's shoulders and chest.

"Mr. Bannon," Dr. Aldo sputtered, "I don't think that's…"

"Benton," Race asked quietly, pointing at the body, "When did Jonny get a tattoo?"

Benton looked where Race was pointing. Wrapped around each of Jonny biceps was the neck and head of a dragon. Race ever so gently pulled the shoulder up catching a glimpse of a serpentine shape crossing Jonny's back. He whistled in appreciation as he let go of the body. Dr. Aldo nodded in agreement.

"The tattoo runs across his back until it meets up with the other arm," she commented. "I've seen a lot of tattoos come through here, but this is one of the better ones."

Race shook his head, "This must have been what Jessie was talking about."

"Hmm?" Benton stared at Jonny, only half hearing Race.

"Right after Jonny got home for Christmas, I overheard him and Jessie in the kitchen. Jessie was saying that you would kill him when you found out, and Jonny said something about being able to keep it a secret until summer if she didn't rat on him. I asked Jonny about it later, but he claimed it was nothing."

Benton's eyes were beginning to lose focus; he reached out to stroke Jonny's hair. _Blond, just like her's_. _He was so much like Rachel_.

Dr. Aldo again reached for the sheet, abruptly pulling it back up over Jonny's face. Benton looked at her, fire in his eyes. _What was she doing with his son?_

Race stepped quickly around the platform to Benton's side and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "Benton, let's go talk to the trooper. He's waiting upstairs."

He stared at the sheet-draped corpse for another moment, before acknowledging Race with the briefest nod. Dr. Aldo gently pushed the drawer back in, and grabbed a nearby clipboard that she handed to Dr. Quest.

"Please sign this so we can release his body," she said.

Race held his breath; up to this point, Benton had held himself together – how, he did not know – but Race was not sure how much more his friend could take. He kept trying to put himself in Benton's place. How would he react if it was Jessie's body in that drawer? Could he calmly sign a release form for her _body_? He shuddered at the thought.

Benton signed and handed the clipboard back, then made his way slowly to the door, shoulders slumped, looking for all the world like an old man.

Sylvia gave Race a sympathetic smile, "Trooper Marxx is on the second floor, waiting in the conference room. I'll take care of the body and make sure it gets to your plane before you leave tomorrow."

He nodded his thanks, not trusting himself to speak. Benton was not waiting for him in the hallway, and Race felt a momentary twinge of panic as he headed for the stairs. He took them two at a time, the emotions he had been keeping at bay all day fueling his adrenaline. He cleared the last three steps with a leap and almost lost his footing on the slick tiled floor; he was saved by a hand on his arm.

Benton waited until Race had his feet under him again before letting go. He leaned back against the wall and sighed, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't be near that room another minute."

Race watched his friend with growing concern. He had been with the Quest family long enough to know their moods, and Benton was dangerously close to falling apart. "The Trooper's upstairs, but if you need to lie down, I can talk to him."

Benton was shaking his head before Race finished, "No, I need to be there. I need to know, Race. I…I'm ok for the moment." He paused with his hand on the railing, "Has anyone called Hadji and Jessie?"

Race shook his head, "I'll call Jessie when we're done here, and I thought it would be better for Hadji to hear it from you."

Benton smiled sadly, "Thank you. I'll call him from the hotel."

* * *

Trooper Alain Marxx sat behind the long conference table, nervously playing with his hat. He scrambled to his feet when the door swung open and two men strode in. One was tall, in a red shirt and slacks, sporting a white crew cut; the other was slightly shorter, with reddish-brown hair, wearing a tailored suit.

The man in the red shirt approached him, "Trooper Marxx? I'm Race Bannon and this," he motioned to the man in the suit, "is Dr. Benton Quest."

Marxx shook Race's hand and nodded to Benton before sitting back down. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Dr. Quest. I'm sure you have questions, and my chief has cleared me to be here as long as you need."

"Thank you," Benton said, quietly. "Please tell us what happened."

"I don't know how much Sherriff Elliot told you, so I'll start from the beginning. Our office received a call two days ago. A motorist said the guardrail over Petersons Gully on the 456 was broken. They said they stopped to look but couldn't see anything at the bottom, but it was early morning, so the light wasn't very good. I was in the area so they sent me to check it out. Sure enough, the guardrail was bent and twisted with one whole section missing. I looked in the gully too but couldn't see anything from the road. Clearly something had gone through the rail, so I decided to check it out from the other side. There is a small service road that runs closer to the bottom, on the other side of the gully. I wasn't able to see the wreck until I parked and was practically standing in the gully. At the bottom, the rocks form a sort of overhang and the bike had managed to fall in such a way that it was under that overhang." He paused and shook his head, "I still can't figure out how."

Race looked at him, curiously, "How what?"

"How that bike ended up where it was. I grew up in that area, and that turn was an accident magnet. I can't tell you how many cars went over it, but I've never seen one end up where that bike was. Anyway, the angle of the bike made it impossible to see from the road, and the body…" he paused again and looked at Benton who nodded encouragingly, "the body was next to it. I checked for a pulse before running back to the car and calling it in. After that, I returned to the body, snapped a couple of pictures in case there was an investigation then looked for identification. I found a wallet in the bike saddlebags; I called the name in, and next thing you know I'm talking to the chief who instructs me under penalty of death not to touch anything else until a CSI unit gets there. So, I waited in my car for them to arrive, then went back to the station to give my report." He looked up at the two men, "That's all. I didn't go back to the scene after that."

"I understand it was ruled an accident," Race said, "Do you agree with that? Did you see anything that might make you think it wasn't, skid marks or anything like that?"

"Are you asking if he was run off the road?"

"Yeah."

Marxx shook his head, "The only thing that seemed funny to me was where the bike was. Apart from that, it would have been almost impossible to tell if it was an accident or not."

"Why's that?" Benton asked.

"Because of where it happened. Like I said, the place is a hotspot for accidents. The road is black from all the skid marks. There's be no way to tell if one was newer then the other, and the bike was so banged up," he noticed Benton flinch, "it's impossible to say. In this case, the only telling piece of evidence would have been signs of foul play on the body, and, as I understand it, there weren't any. Plus," he added, "It didn't look like anything was taken from the bike, and there was some nice stuff in those saddlebags."

The room went quiet for a minute. Benton sat there, clasping and unclasping his hands. He had been telling himself all day that he wanted the whole story, but hearing his stranger talk so matter-of-factly about his son's death made him want to hit something. He stood abruptly and left the room, desperate for air. Race started to stand, but saw the look in Benton's eye and sat back down. Marxx was still sitting, mouth hanging open.

"I'm sorry," he said hesitantly, "I was told you wanted the full story."

"It's ok," Race reassured him, "He just needs a minute." He looked at Marxx curiously, "How old are you, son?"

"Twenty-four, sir."

"Been with the troopers long?"

"I just graduated from the academy six months ago." Marxx glances towards the door. "Who is he?"

Race followed Marxx's gaze to the door, "A father." He stood up, "Excuse me for just a minute."

Benton was pacing furiously, digging his nails into his palms, trying desperately to keep his emotions at bay for just a little while longer. Race observed him quietly for a moment, then turned and went back into the conference room.

Pacing was apparently contagious as Marxx had begun doing just that while Race was out of the room. Race sighed and sank into a chair, exhausted. His job was to see Benton through and make sure the family had a rock, but his heart was aching. Jonny and Hadji were both family to him, but there had always been a special bond between him and Jonny. He was startled by the door opening. Benton stood there, ramrod straight, emotions under control for another few minutes.

He continued standing as he looked at Marxx, "Trooper, can you think of anything else we should know about the accident?"

Marxx shook his head.

"Then I believe we are done here. Thank you for your time, and thank you for finding my son." He looked at Race, "I'm ready to go."

Race hopped up and followed him back downstairs where Sylvia was waiting with a large cardboard box. Race looked at the box questioningly. _Person effects_ she mouthed. Race took the box from her, resisting the urge to open it there. Benton needed to get some rest before he fell over, and they still had to call Hadji and Jessie.


	5. Chapter 5

Benton stared at the phone in his hand. He was supposed to call Hadji, but every time he tried to dial, it was like his hands stopped working.

"Benton," Race poked his head into the room, "You'd better make that call quick. Phil just called; someone finally leaked the story to the press."

He took a deep breath and dialed, hitting call before he lost his nerve again. It rang a few times before he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

Benton smiled in spite of himself. It was good to hear Hadji's voice.

"Hello, Hadji, it's me."

He could hear the smile in Hadji's voice, "It's good to hear from you, Dr. Quest. Are you still in Tokyo?"

"No," he paused to collect himself, "I'm in Richmond actually."

"Why are you there?" Hadji asked.

Benton swallowed, "Hadji…there's something I need to tell you."

"What's wrong?"

"Jonny…" he choked out as the emotions he had kept at bay overwhelmed him. He bowed his head and began to weep.

* * *

In Bangalore, Hadji heard his father start to cry. No one needed to tell him anything else. "I will be there as soon as possible," he promised, not sure if Benton even heard him.

He hung up the phone and called Quest Enterprises. He was not surprised to hear Race had already called and a jet was waiting at the airport to take him to Maine. He hurriedly gathered his things and explained things to his mother, Neela, who promised to follow in a few days. He was on the plane, listless gazing out the window as reality took hold. _My brother is dead_. It just was not possible.

"My brother is dead," he said out loud to no one in particular. He knew nothing but that explained Benton's tears, but it just could not be true.

"MY BROTHER IS DEAD!!" He screamed, allowing his calm reserve to fall away for once. Grief crept over him, digging its cold fingers into his heart. _Not Jonny_, he thought between the sobs, _not Jonny_.

* * *

Race heard the weeping from the other room, and his heard bled for Benton, for all of them. _First Rachel, now this. How much can one man suffer_? Race offered a prayer of thanks for Hadji; he did not know when Benton would do without him. Sighing, he picked up the phone; he had put this off for long enough. Once this was taken care of, maybe he could get some sleep.

"Hello?"

"Estella?"

"Really, Race, your daughter is practically an adult now. Don't you think you can trust her to spend a couple of weeks with her mother without check in with you every forty-eight hours?" His ex-wife sounded half-amused, half-exasperated.

"Stella…Stella, I need to talk to Jessie."

* * *

Estella heard Race's tone and knew something was wrong. She sent one of her grad students off to find Jessie, then turned her attention back to the phone.

"What's wrong, Race?" she asked.

"It's Jonny," was the quiet reply. "He crashed his motorcycle, and…he didn't make it."

Her hand flew to her mouth, "Oh my…how's Benton?"

"Not good, Stella, not good at all. It's Rachel all over again."

She was quiet for a minute before asking quietly, "And you?"

She heard the heavy sigh on the other end, but before he could answer the red-haired tornado that was her daughter bounded up and playfully pulled the phone out of her hand, oblivious to her mother's face.

"Dad, thank goodness you called," Jessie said in a tone of mock seriousness, "It's been a whole two days since I heard from you, and I was beginning to think you might be in trouble."

Race swallowed hard, "_Ponchita_, I need you to come home. There is a plane waiting in La Paz. Please get there as soon as you can."

Jessie rolled her eyes, "Dad, you are impossible. Eventually, you will have to learn how to live without me."

"It's not me, honey; Jonny was in an accident…"

"Ahh," Jessie interrupted, nodding her head with understanding, "And the big baby wants me to sign his cast. I get it."

There was silence on the other end, and Jessie noticed her mother was crying. She looked at Estella with widening eyes, "Mom?" She put the phone back to her ear, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Dad," she asked in a small voice, "He is ok, isn't he?"

There was a long pause before Race whispered, "No, _Ponchita_."

Estella gently took the phone away from Jessie, wrapping her daughter in a big hug. "We'll be there, Race," she whispered into the phone.

Authors note: Yes, i know all this emotional boo-hooing can get old, but please stick with the story! I promise it is going somewhere.


	6. Chapter 6

Jessie scowled at the cloudless sky. The sun should know better then to shine on a day like today. Below her the lawn had become a sea of black – black cars, black suits, black dresses. She knew she should be downstairs helping her mother, but she could not face all those people. Instead she snuck down the hallway to another closed door and gently knocked.

"Hadji?" she whispered, pushing the door open.

Hadji was bent over his desk, clearly oblivious to Jessie. As she got closer she saw he was looking through a photo album. Careful not to disturb him, she tiptoed back out of the room, and soundless closed the door behind her.

"How's Hadji?" Race's question made Jessie jump. He was standing with his hand on her door.

""Looking at pictures of him and Jonny. He didn't even know I was in the room." She leaned against the wall and sank to the floor. "I've never seen him like this before, Dad. No matter what was going on, Hadji was the calm, rational one; the guy you could count on to pull through. But these past couple of days…he just walks around like a zombie."

Race sat down next to his daughter and put him arm around her shoulder, "We've never been in a situation like this before, _Ponchita_. Hadji just needs time; we all do."

Jessie snuggled closer to her dad, trying to hold back the tears. Bandit sat at her feet, looking mournful; she scooped the little dog into her arms and squeezed him tightly.

"What did you come up here for, Dad?" she asked, wiping her eyes on her arm.

"Your mom sent me to get you two. She says it's time."

Jessie stood and nodded, "I'll get Hadji; we'll be down in a minute."

Race smiled at his daughter, "Thanks, honey. Have you seen Dr. Quest? I was supposed to get him too, but he wasn't in his room."

Jessie nodded towards the end of the hallway before disappearing back into Hadji's room. Race took a few deep breaths and knocked the door Jessie had indicated.

"Benton?" he inquired, carefully opening the door.

Benton was sitting on Jonny's bed, holding a frame. Race knew which picture it was without looking. It was Benton, with Rachel and Jonny, taken just a few days before Rachel died. It was one of Jonny's favorite pictures; he had even made a copy to take with him to NYU.

"Benton."

He finally looked up and saw Race standing by the door. Brushing away his tears, he asked, "Is it time?"

Race nodded.

Benton stared at him for a second before looking back at the picture, "I'll be out in a minute."

Race closed the door behind him and was surprised to see Jessie, Hadji, and Estella all waiting for him outside.

"Race, is he coming?" Estella whispered.

Race shrugged, "He said he'd be down soon."

By an unspoken agreement, Hadji entered Jonny's room, closing the door behind him while Jessie led her parents downstairs.

* * *

Jessie had no idea so many people could fit into a single space. The Quest mansion was huge, to be sure, but there had to be hundreds of people in that house. She caught a glimpse of Jonny's coffin, the shiny oak an odd contrast to the sea of black. She shivered involuntarily and silently gave a prayer of thanks that Dr. Quest had decided to keep the casket closed. Open casket funerals had always creeped her out, and she did not think she could handle staring at her friend's body. There was a creak on the stairs behind her and she turned to see Dr. Quest come down, his arm firmly wrapped around Hadji's shoulders. Benton's face was haggard, clear evidence of many sleepless nights, but his shoulders were set as he strode purposefully into the throng. Jessie and Race followed them to their seats with Estella close behind. Benton and Hadji sat in the middle of the row, flanked by Race and Neela. Jessie sat between her parents with Estella's arms wrapped around her and Bandit on her lap. During the service, Jessie's gaze kept wandering to the front door.

_Come on, hotshot. Don't leave us like this. We both know this wasn't how you were supposed to go. I mean, seriously, Jonny, after all the near-death experiences we've had, you're gone because you couldn't keep your motorcycle under control?! Not cool, Jonny, not cool at all. _

"Not cool at all," she whispered. Estella gathered Jessie up into her arms as the tears began to flow. She stayed there for the rest of the service, sobbing silently.

* * *

Estella sighed as she surveyed the damage. Every square foot of the main floor was in shambles. She had arraigned for a cleaning crew to deal with the mess, but they were not coming until tomorrow. She headed to the kitchen; she did not expect any one to eat, but she was going to prepare dinner anyway. She was shocked to find Benton there, absently looking through cabinets.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked.

He jumped slightly, but seemed happy to see her, "Coffee, actually. I just can't seem to remember where it is. Mrs. Evans or Race usually makes it."

Estella smiled, "You sit down, and I'll get us both a cup."

He took the offered chair and watched her navigate the disaster that was the kitchen, "Where is Mrs. Evans? I don't think I've seen her all week."

"The day after I got here, I found her crying over some of Jonny's laundry that he forgot to take with him. I told her to take the week off. It took some persuasion, but she finally accepted with the firm assurance that she will be back to work tomorrow morning."

Benton looked at Estella for a moment. He had been so lost in grief all week, the care and running of the house had not even occurred to him. "Thank you, Estella."

"For what?" she looked puzzled.

"I know that you took care of everything." He shook his head, "I don't know what we would have done without you."

Estella finally found the coffee and sat down while it brewed, "I'm just glad I was here to help. Jonny was a special kid." She laughed, "Although I never met his equal for getting into trouble. Throw Jessie into the mix, and it's no wonder Race's hair is white."

Benton smiled, "Yes, he threatened to lock them both up and throw away the key many, many times. But, between us, I don't think he'd have had it any other way."

The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen as they sat there, quietly. Estella reached across the table and took Benton's hand, "How are you holding up?"

He shook his head, "I'm glad today is over. I was dreading it. I'll never forget sitting there during Rachel's funeral while person after person got up and talked about what a wonderful person she was, and all I could think was how unfair it was that she'd been taken from me; how unfair that my son wouldn't get to really know his mother. They all seemed so quick to let her go and move on. If it hadn't been for Jonny, I would have gladly crawled inside the casket with her and let them bury me then and there. But I couldn't. Jonny needed me, and above all else, Rachel's son was going to be safe." He looked at her with pain in his eyes, "And look where we are. Rachel's little boy is dead. I failed."

Estella gripped his hand tighter, "Benton, you loved your son. Anyone who knows you could see that."

"Yes, I loved him, but if I loved him so much, why wasn't I here?"

She looked at him, confused, "What do you mean? There was nothing you could have done."

"Jonny was supposed to spend his winter break here, with me. If I hadn't gone to Tokyo, Jonny would have been here, safe and sound, not lying dead off some godforsaken road in Virginia."

Estella saw Race standing by the back door, watching them. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jessie and Hadji. Hadji walked over to the table and sat down next to his father.

"Dr. Quest," he said quietly, "Jonny would not want you to blame yourself. How were you to know? How were any of us to know? If you were to blame, then so were we."

Benton sat and looked at Hadji in surprise, "What do you mean? This certainly isn't your fault."

Hadji nodded, sadly, "If you are to blame simply because you left, then so are we. I did not have to go to Bangalore; Jessie did not have to go to Bolivia; Jonny did not have to go to Florida. We all made a choice. Jonny's death was a tragic accident. We will all miss him greatly, but please do not compound our grief by blaming yourself.

Benton stared at his son for a moment before wrapping him up in a big hug. Together, the two remaining Quests mourned their loss.

* * *

Pain. It was everywhere. It coursed through his body. He would have vomited if he had anything left in his stomach. How long had the pain been there? Days…weeks…he couldn't remember. On the fringes of his mind he could vaguely remember a time before the pain, but to try and focus on that simply brought more pain…and memories. Yes, the memories that were both a cause and effect of his pain. He was not aware of hunger or fatigue. All that mattered was the pain. The pain shot through him again and he was aware of a scream. He had no idea if it was him or if someone else was in pain too. It did not matter.

Another bolt of pain and a picture began to form in front of his eyes. A little boy in the park with his dog. A man is watching them, laughing. The little boy is swinging.

"Watch me, Daddy," he calls. His dog begins to bark and the boy jumps off the swings, falling and skinning his knees. Tears fill his eyes as the man runs over and picks him up and comforts him.

"It hurts, Daddy," the little boy cries.

"I know," the man says, holding him close, "But don't worry; Daddy's got you."

His eyes filled with tears as the picture fades. Momentarily the pain subsided and he whimpered. _Daddy. Daddy, help me_.

Author's note: Yes, i am leaving you with that tantalizing little cliffhanger. I promise there is more; i just want to see how these few chapters do before i post more.


	7. Chapter 7

Jonny screamed and somewhere in the vast darkness that surrounded him, someone laughed.

"Please," he begged between gasps, "Please stop. I'll tell you anything."

"Tsk, tsk, Jonathan." The voice echoed all around him. "We both know that's not true. Now let's try this again."

The pain started in his head, not losing any intensity as it traveled through his body. This wave was followed by another and another until he did not have the energy to scream.

"Think," the voice urged, "Your father's energy ray."

Shadows began to swirl in front of Jonny's face. He shook his head vigorously to dispel them.

"No!" he screamed, "No, you can't have them!"

The voice sighed, "I'm disappointed in you. I thought we had moved beyond this. Very well, if you insist. Your mother, Jonathan, your mother…that day."

These words were accompanied by more waves of pain as the shadows began to swirl and take shape. He tried to push thoughts of his mother from his mind, but they rose, unbidden.

"No, please," he pleaded, "Don't make me watch again."

The shadows continued to swirl until a full picture emerged. Tears streaming down his face, Jonny watched his memories unfold in front of him as if they were on a movie screen.

* * *

_The sky was blue and the waves gently lapped the shore on Palm Key. Jonny and Rachel were home alone. Benton was due back from Washington DC that evening, but Jonny was enjoying having his mother all to himself. They had spent the day swimming and playing with Bandit, and the afternoon sun had made Jonny sleepy. He was just dozing off when he heard his mom scream. He ran into the house, through the empty kitchen into the living room. He slid to a stop, horrified by what he saw. He mother was surrounded by five men in black, armed with guns. One was holding her arms behind her while another was hitting her. _

_"Tell us what we want to know," the man in front of Rachel snarled._

_She shook her head, tears running down her face, mingling with the blood running from her nose._

_The intruder brought his fist back to hit her again when Jonny jumped on him._

_"Leave my mom alone, creep!"_

_The man reached around and pulling Jonny off his back, flung him into the coffee table. Jonny felt shooting pain in his side, but he pushed himself off the ground and tried to jump the guy again. This time he found himself slammed into the ground with a iron fist around his throat, cutting off his air._

_"Leave him alone!" he heard Rachel scream through the fog. Just before he passed out, the goon released him. Fresh air filled his lungs, and he crawled across the floor to his mother. She pulled him to her, burying his face in her shirt. He felt her chest heaving with sobs. Suddenly he was ripped out of her arms, kicking and screaming. Two of the men held him as the man in charge marched back into the living room with a knife in his hand. Jonny's eyes widened as the goon walked up to Rachel and buried the knife in her stomach. Everything began to move in slow motion. He kicked, scratched and bit the men holding him, desperate to free himself, desperate to get to his mother, but they would not let go. The man with the knife plunged it into his mother's body again and again until she sank to the floor. He turned to Jonny, knife still in his hand. The men restraining Jonny dropped him to the floor, but before he could move the man with the knife grabbed his hair, forcing him back until he hit the wall. He could not take his eyes off his mother, who lay unmoving in a growing pool of red. Hands stained with that same red forced his gaze up, straight into the empty eyes of her murderer. _

_"Tell your father this was a warning," a voice growled and thrust the knife into his stomach._

_Jonny felt blinding pain followed by a strange mix of cold and heat. He sank to the floor, unable to see his mother. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bandit lying next to the wall. The little dog was not moving. The men took their guns and left; the house had a strange empty sound. Jonny thought he heard a plane in the distance, but a welcoming coldness began to envelope him, begging him to sleep. He closed his eyes and felt consciousness slipping away. An unearthly scream brought him back; somewhere in that room, out of his sight, his father was kneeling next to his mother's lifeless body, screaming her name over and over. In the next moment, the scream changed, and Jonny heard his own name being called. _

_"Dad," he whispered, "Dad, I'm over here."_

_He heard his father stumbling through the house, calling for him, pleading for an answer. Jonny wanted to answer; he wanted his dad to hold him, but he hurt so much. Suddenly, Bandit's still form began to move, and he whimpered as he limped over to Jonny._

_"Bandit, get Dad," Jonny whispered, "Please get Dad."_

_The little dog seemed to understand, and limped off, barking as loud as he could. Jonny heard pounding footsteps following the dog as Bandit ran back and forth between his master and Benton._

_"Jonny!" Benton yelled, scrambling to find a pulse._

_With his last bit of energy, Jonny opened his eyes. His father was kneeling over him, face covered in tears._

_"I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered. "I couldn't save her."_

* * *

The memory disappeared in a flash of pain. Jonny wept, every emotion as raw and vivid as it was that day. The pain did not matter anymore; he welcomed it.

* * *

A man in a dark suit observed the sobbing young man impassively. He turned to his companions, "I don't understand. You can obviously force him to produce memories at your command. Why is it necessary to bring up irrelevant ones? Why not just force him to show you what you want?"

The man at the controls answered, "It is all a process, sir. When he first came here, we could not make him produce anything on command. Only by wearing him down have we reached this point. Also, emotional memories are easier to bring to the surface. We could dig for the information we wanted, but that would require more time and eventually cause irreparable damage. If that were to happen before we retrieved all the memories, I don't imagine you and your associates would be very pleased. It is easier to make him relive painful events over and over until he stops fighting and gives up the memories we want willingly."

He paused, "Now, if you will excuse me, I will get back to work." He leaned over to the second man, "Again."

The man in the suit walked out as the tropical day reappeared on the screen behind him.

Author's Note: Yes, i know this is not the official way Rachel died, but since i was working slightly in the Classic Jonny Quest universe (the family lives on Palm Key and Race does not appear until after Rachel's death), I decided to run with my own idea. I hope no one minds :)


	8. Chapter 8

_Hadji…are you there…help me…there's so much pain…HADJI…HADJII!! _

Hadji woke up on his dorm room floor gasping for air, covered in sweat and vomit. Someone was pounding on his door.

_Not again_, he thought, burying his head in his hands. He had this nightmare many times before, but it had been a few weeks and he had begun to hope…

The pounding stopped, and Hadji was vaguely aware of someone messing with the handle. His door was flung open and several students ran in.

"Hadji, are you ok man?" Steve, his chemistry partner, pulled him to his feet. "You've been screaming for, like, ten minutes."

"Sorry," he tried to smile, but only managed a grimace, "I think I was having a nightmare."

"Who's Jonny?"

"I'm sorry?" Hadji looked at the inquisitor in surprise. She was a petite blond Hadji remembered seeing in the hallway from time to time. He thought her name was Kiera

"You kept screaming the name Jonny over and over," she said with a shrug.

Someone draped a blanket over his shoulders and he pulled it tightly around him, trying in vain to suppress the chill running through him.

"He was my brother."

"Was?" she pressed, oblivious to the glares from Hadji's friends.

"He is dead," Hadji whispered, not sure if he was trying to convincer her, or himself.

* * *

Phil Corvin's intercom buzzed. "Yes, Jamie?" the I-1 director answered, absently.

"Sorry to interrupt you, Sir, but Special Agent Martin Colburn here to see you."

Phil's face brightened, "Send him right in."

Scarcely a minute passed before his door opened. Phil jumped up and reached his hand across his desk.

"Marty!" he exclaimed, "It's been a while. How are things at the Bureau?"

"Same as usual," Colburn replied, sitting in one of the plush chairs in front of the desk, "bureaucracy and red tape, but we managed to get some good done in between. How about you?"

"The same. How are Trish and the kids?"

"Trish is fine. She's in Tampa visiting her folks with the kids. Marla's fifteen and Jake's ten now. Are you still a confirmed bachelor?"

Phil shrugged, "Married to the job." He eyed a folder in Colburn's hand, "But this isn't a social call, is it?"

Colburn grinned sheepishly, "Not completely." He handed the folder to Phil, "That's a missing persons case that landed on my desk last week."

Phil flipped through it absently, "Missing persons aren't really my thing, Marty."

"I know that, but there was something odd about this one, and I thought you'd be interested. As far as missing persons go, this one's a little unique. Brandon Holmer, son of oil tycoon Frederick Holmer, went missing sometime before Christmas. No report was filed until the middle of February."

"Why not?"

"The parents were on a three month cruise and the sister was at school in France. Apparently, it's not unusual for them to go weeks without talking to each other. His sister began to get worried and finally flew to NYU to look for him. She was told he hadn't shown up for any classes since the beginning of the semester and no one had heard from him. She filed the first report and her parents filed a follow up when they got back the following week."

Phil shook his head, "How do you not know your son is missing for two months?"

Colburn nodded in agreement, "Tell me about it. But what I thought you'd be interested in is on page five."

Phil found page five and began scanning, "I don't see what…" He looked at Colburn, his mouth hanging open. "Is there a photo?"

"In the back."

Phil flipped through the folder until he found it. One look and he smacked his intercom so hard it almost flew off the desk.

"Yes?" Jamie answered.

"Jamie, I need you to book me on the next flight to Rockport, Maine."

* * *

"Are you in here, Doc?" Race called as he entered the lighthouse.

"Over here," Benton waved from around the corner.

Dr. Quest had been working on a system upgrade for IRIS for the better part of two weeks now and spent more time in the lighthouse then in his office.

"Sorry to bother you," Race said, "But I just got a call from Phil Corvin. He's on his way here. He says he needs to see us both immediately."

Benton raised his eyebrows, "Sounds serious. Any idea what it's about?"

Race shook his head, "I can't imagine, but he'll be here in about twenty minutes so I figured I'd give you a heads up."

"Thanks. I'll be there in just a few minutes."

A cool March breeze blew across the compound, carrying the scent of spring and salt water. Race paused, feeling a sense of calm that had avoided him for months. Life in the Quest house was finally regaining some normalcy. Benton was working again, and Hadji and Jessie were done with mid-terms. They were both due back tomorrow morning. Bandit was the only member of the family who had not adjusted. He still slept in Jonny's room and wandered the house at all hours of the day and night crying for his human.

Race was barely in the door when he heard the roar of a car engine. _Phil's early_ he thought, not a little surprised. Phil Corvin was one of those annoyingly punctual people who always arrived exactly when he said he would. If he was early, whatever he was here to talk about must be important.

"It's good to see you, Phil," Race said, letting him inside.

"You too," Phil scanned the room, "Is Dr. Quest home?"

"Right here," Benton answered, coming in through the kitchen. "How have you been, Phil?"

"Same as usual, Benton. And you?"

He shrugged, "Coping. I've had enough work to keep me busy and distracted. Hadji and Jessie are back tomorrow, so hopefully this place won't feel quite so empty." A sudden fear entered his eyes, "Hadji and Jessie _are_ fine, aren't they? You aren't here to tell us…"

Phil interrupted him, "No, nothing like that."

Benton lowered himself into a chair, looking sheepish, "Sorry. Ever since the night Sam dropped by, I equate surprise visits with bad news."

"That's understandable," Phil said, settling into a chair opposite Dr. Quest. Race stood off to the side, leaning against the wall.

"If the kids are fine, what brings you here in such an all-fired hurry, Phil?" Race asked.

Phil pulled a folder out of his briefcase, "This is a missing persons case. An old FBI friend of mine showed it to me this afternoon."

Race raised an eyebrow, "I didn't realize I-1 was handling cases like that now."

"We're not." Phil related the details of the case.

Benton shook his head in disgust, "Some people just shouldn't be parents, but I still fail to see what any of this has to do with me."

Phil took a deep breath, "According to Brandon's sister, he had a unique tattoo, one he designed himself and got during a trip to Thailand last summer." He handed a photo to Benton. "A tattoo of two dragon heads wound around the upper arms connected by a snake's body across the shoulders."

Benton stared speechless at the photo in front of him. The young man had the exact same tattoo they had seen on Jonny's body all those months ago.

"Phil," Race looked at him with wide eyes, "What does this mean?"

He shook his head, "I'm not sure, but we need to exhume Jonny's body and run a DNA test as soon as possible. If there is the slightest chance the body you buried isn't Jonny's…"

Race nodded, "Do whatever you need to do."


	9. Chapter 9

The ever-present pain consumed him, and darkness surrounded him. His sight had failed long ago, no doubt caused by the electrical pain that coursed through his body. He would have welcomed the darkness if it meant an end to the memories. Unfortunately, he could not turn off his mind, and they ran through his head with clarity equal to the screen above him.

The voice – his only real assurance he was not alone in this hell – echoed all around him, laughing at his pain. More waves passed through him, but he no longer cared. His body was failing. Soon his mind would join his eyes in the darkness, and the pain would finally cease.

Jonny allowed himself a smile – the first he could remember since his arrival. He was going to beat them. He would give into the pain and silence his mind forever.

"It won't be long now, Mom," he whispered.

* * *

_Come on, Hadji_. Jessie paced impatiently outside the taxi as she alternately checked her cell phone and scanned the crowd outside Harvard University. There! She spotted a white turban weaving its way through the courtyard in her direction. She started to run up and give him a hug, but pulled up in shock at his appearance. His face was haggard and the circles under his eyes were almost black.

"Hadji, are you ok?" she asked, concern filling her voice, "You look like crap."

Hadji smiled sadly, "I am fine, Jessie, just a little tired. You know how mid-terms can be."

She looked at him skeptically, "Yeah, I know how they can be for _normal_ people, but they've never bothered you before."

The cab driver took care of Hadji's luggage as they climbed into the car. Jessie waited until they were well on their way back to the airport before trying again.

"So, would you like to tell me what's really going on?"

Hadji ignored her, choosing to stare out the window instead. Jessie gently tugged on his coat until he gave up and faced her.

"It's nothing. I'm sure I'll be fine once we are back in Maine."

"I'm not buying it, Hadj, and I don't think Dr. Quest will either. So," she added, a devious look in her eye, "You can either tell me now, or tell him later. Which is it going to be?"

Hadji shuddered at the thought of having to tell Dr. Quest. "Fine, Jessie, I will tell you, but you have to promise to keep it to yourself."

"I promise."

He glanced back out the window, "Since we appear to be at our desination, perhaps explanations should wait until we are in the air."

The taxi deposited them at the edge of the small airfield. A private Quest jet waited for them on the other end of the field. Jessie paid the driver while Hadji retrieved his bags. The pilot had the plane warmed up and ready to go by the time they finished stowing everything. Normally, Jessie would have preferred to fly the plane herself, but since Jonny's accident, neither she nor Hadji had been allowed in the pilot's seat. This led to more then one fight between Jessie and Race, but she was too curious about Hadji to allow that to annoy her on this trip.

After they were airborne she grabbed a couple of sodas out of the fridge, tossed Hadji one and sat in the seat facing him.

"Ok, start talking," she ordered.

Hadji smiled. He did not realize how much he missed her. _And Jonny_ he thought. _But she's here and Jonny isn't _his rational mind argued. _That's right. Where's Jonny?_

"Dead," he whispered miserably, the smile gone.

"Huh?" Jessie was getting more concerned by the minute. She reached across the isle and gently shook him, "Hadji, you're scaring me."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, "You're not the only one."

Jessie shifted, moving to the seat next to him, "Tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help."

Hadji bowed his head and there was a long pause before he finally said, "I have been having nightmares – horrible nightmares."

"About Jonny?"

He nodded, "The last one was a couple of nights ago. He said he was in pain," Hadji finally looked her in the eyes and she saw how scared he was. "He was screaming, Jessie, screaming for me, begging me for help. I have never heard another human make that sounds before. I…I woke up on the floor. Apparently I had been screaming as well because a couple of my friends made maintenance open the door. According to one of them, I had screamed Jonny's name over and over. I haven't slept since."

Jessie put her arms around Hadji and held him tight for a few minutes. The past five months had been hard on everyone, but Hadji had always been the strong one in the group. It never occurred to her how much he must be suffering.

One of his comments nagged at her, and she finally pulled away, a question in her eyes, "You said the _last_ one was a couple of nights ago. How many times have you had this nightmare?"

Hadji shrugged, "I've lost count."

"And meditation doesn't help?"

He smiled wryly, "Meditation seems to have caused the problem."

Jessie sat in silence, absorbing her friend's statement. Meditation had been Hadji's rock, the one thing he could count on to calm him in any situation. If he lost that…well, no wonder he looked like crap.

He sighed, "A few days after Jonny's funeral, I was in my room, trying to meditate. For obvious reasons, my mind kept wandering to Jonny. Suddenly, I heard someone sobbing. I couldn't identify where it was coming from but it unnerved me. I began to call out, 'Who's there? Let me help you.' The next sound was the most chilling laugh I have ever heard. Evil itself seemed to emanate from that laugh. Everything went silent for a moment and then I heard Jonny's voice. It was barely more then a whisper."

Hadji paused to steady his wavering voice. Jessie brushed away the tears coursing down her cheeks.

"He said 'Daddy…Daddy, help me.' The next thing I knew, I was in my room, still in my mediation stance. I tried to shake the whole thing off, to convince myself I did not hear Jonny's voice, that I imagined the whole thing." He shook his head, "But it happened again, and again. Sometimes the voice cried, sometimes it screamed, but it never stopped begging for help, begging for the pain to stop. I stopped meditating, but I began hearing it in my dreams."

"Hadji," Jessie asked, softly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were so far away…besides, what could you have done?" He smiled at her, "I will be fine. Do not worry about me. They have become less frequent recently, and going home will do me good."

The plane banked sharply, marking their descent into Rockport. The next half hour was a flurry of activity, especially once they realized their parents were not there to pick them up. Instead, they were met by three I-1 agents in a large black SUV. A quick call to Race confirmed that the agents were supposed to bring them back to the house.

"So much for 'can't wait to see you guys,'" Jessie complained as the SUV pulled away from the airport.

"I am as surprised as you," Hadji admitted. "But I am very curious to know what has happened since I spoke to Race yesterday."

* * *

"What are you going to tell Dr. Quest?" Jessie asked suddenly, as they turn onto the long driveway leading to the Quest compound.

"What are you talking about?" Hadji asked, surprised.

"I'm talking about our conversation on the plane.

He looked at her suspiciously, "You promised you weren't going to say anything about that."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on it," she reassured him, "But you still look horrible, and you can bet Dad and Dr. Quest are going to ask you why. I was just wondering what you plan on telling them."

"I guess I'll tell them the same thing I told you – I'm exhausted from mid-terms and will be as good as new after a few days." He glanced over at her, "Do you think they'll believe me?"

Jessie smiled knowingly, "Given everything you've been through this year, probably. And even if they don't, chances are they won't force you to tell them the truth."

"That is very true," Hadji agreed, relieved by the thought. He had been very concerned Dr. Quest would press him for answers he could not give, knowing how much the truth would hurt his father.

"Anyway," Jessie added, "I just hope Mrs. Evens has something good in the oven. After months of school food I'm ready…" The rest of the sentence died on her lips as the house came into view. Several vehicles sat in the driveway, and she caught a brief glimpse of several men loading a dirty wooden box into the back of a black van.

"Hadji, is that…?" she whispered.

He nodded in disbelief.

* * *

The SUV was still rolling as Jessie and Hadji bolted out of either side. A quick glance at the chaos taking place in the compound told them their fathers were elsewhere.

"Dad?" Jessie yelled, running into the living room.

"Race? Dr. Quest?" Hadji echoed behind her.

"We're in here," Race called from the study.

Dr. Quest, Race and Phil Corvin were all grouped around the desk, talking quietly. Hadji saw a number of printouts and maps covering the normally tidy desk.

Jessie strode through the doorway and stopped, hands on her hips. "What in the world is going on?" she demanded, staring at her dad. "Why didn't you pick us up? What's with all the people outside, and why did they just take Jonny's coffin away?"

Race walked over and tried to hug his daughter, but she pushed away and just stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

He sighed and motioned to a couple of chairs, "You guys are going to want to sit down."

Race shifted his gaze back and forth between Jessie and Hadji. They both sat in stunned silence, trying to absorb what they were hearing. Jonny might not be dead. Race was very clear about the _might_. Even if that was not Jonny's body, there was no way of knowing if Jonny was alive or dead. Phil asked Race a question and in the moments his back was turned, Jessie and Hadji exchanged a knowing glance. They had to get out of this room as soon as possible.

"Sir?" a person Jessie guessed was an I-1 employee stood just outside the door, trying to get Corvin's attention.

"Is everything ready to go, Michaels?" Phil asked over his shoulder, not even bothering to look up.

"Yes, sir. The van just left. There is a team waiting at headquarters, and Agent Lauren said the samples Dr. Quest wanted should be here no later then tomorrow morning."

Corvin nodded in approval, "Good."

Agent Michaels waited for another second to ensure his boss was done before turning on his heel and heading quickly for the front door. Michael's information had drawn Race back into the conversation between Dr. Quest and Phil Corvin providing Jessie and Hadji with a clear exit. To be safe, neither said anything until they were in the kitchen, well away from their fathers.

"Hadji, your nightmares!" Jessie hissed, torn between excitement and horror – excitement because Jonny might still be alive and horror of whatever he had endured since New Years.

"I know," Hadji nodded, sharing her fears. He sank into a chair and watched her pace. A nudge at his foot took his mind off Jessie for a moment. He smiled and picking Bandit up was rewarded with a face full of dog tongue.

"Come on," she said suddenly, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the back door, Bandit hot on their heels.

* * *

"Jessie, this is a very bad idea," Hadji insisted when Jessie finally let go of his arm.

They were standing in QuestWorld center, the computer hub for the entire compound. In front of him were the three reclining chairs they used whenever they wanted to access the system virtually. Jessie was in front of the computer banks they used to monitor everything. She was typing commands furiously, looking up long enough to toss him a black disk. He held in gingerly, as one would hold a dangerous animal. He knew what Jessie wanted him to do; he had seen it in her eyes back in the study, but fear boiled up inside of him. He had spent the better part of three months trying to block out Jonny's screams. Voluntarily searching for them was the last thing he wanted to do. Jessie hand on his arm startled him. She was smiling sympathetically, understanding in her eyes.

"I know you're scared," she said, "But if what Dad said is true…we need to know, Hadj."

He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the fear. Of course she was right, and if the situation was reversed…Hadji placed the black disk on his ear and settled into the chair. As he calmed his mind and sank into meditation he heard Jessie, "Quest World log on…subject, Hadji Singh…going hot."

The screens on the wall behind Hadji were dark for a few minutes. Jessie watched them carefully, ready to pull Hadji out at the first sign of trouble. The last time she and Jonny had tried to look into Hadji's meditations, Surd almost turned him into a living vegetable. Of course, Surd's mind was safely locked away in a secure facility, but that did not make Jessie feel much better.

The screens began to change color, shifting from black to purple to green; from where Jessie sat it was like flying through a rainbow. It looked so peaceful. _When this is all over, I'm going to have to get Hadji to teach me how to do this_.

"Jonny," Hadji's voice softly echoed out of the rainbow. "I'm here, Jonny. Where are you?"

Time passed slowly, each clock tick an eternity. After twenty minutes, Jessie was done. "I don't think we're going to get anything, Hadji," she said, "I'm pulling you out."

"Hadji," a voice breathed.

Jessie froze, her hand inches from the abort button. In front of her, Hadji visibly stiffened.

"Help me," the voice cried, getting louder with each second.

"Jonny," Hadji called frantically, "Where are you?"

"Please, help me…so much pain…they won't stop…tell Dad… HADJI!!... AHHHHHHHHHHHH."

Jessie dropped to her knees, hands covering her ears in an attempt to block out the screams. Her eyes swam with tears, blurring her vision. Gradually, she became aware of the silence that surrounded her. Trembling, she pulled herself back into the chair. She had no idea how long she had been on the floor. The screens were black again, but Hadji was still in the chair. It did not look like he had moved.

"Hadji," she said, worry in her voice, "Are you ok?"

He nodded slowly and she released a breath she did not realize she had been holding. Hadji looked at her, wanting to reassure her, but something behind her caught his attention, and he froze, horror written all over his face. Jessie spun around and a cry of dismay escaped her lips.

Race and Dr. Quest stood in the doorway. "What is going on here?" Dr. Quest demanded, his voice thick with emotion.


	10. Chapter 10

Benton's knees were shaking so bad he could barely stand. He and Race both thought it would be a good idea to check on Jessie and Hadji. They had disappeared so fast earlier, he had not even had a chance to say hello. They were not in the house, but one of the I-1 agents had seen them headed to the lighthouse. They were nearly there when they heard screams and Benton's blood ran cold. He knew those screams – they had awakened him every night for months after Rachel's murder. He would rush to Jonny's room to find the little boy writhing in his sleep, reliving that day again and again. He ran for the lighthouse, oblivious to everything but those screams. By the time he arrived, they were gone and the room was eerily quiet. He saw Hadji sitting in one of the VR recliners and Jessie pulling herself to her feet. He slowly became aware of Race standing next to him, his expression a mixture of shock and horror. A gasp from Jessie got his attention.

Benton took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

Race put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Let's talk about this back in the house," he suggested.

Benton nodded, "I think that's a good idea."

* * *

"You were trying to WHAT!?" Race demanded. He rubbed his forehead. He was not sure why he was so surprised. This was exactly the kind of stunt Jonny and Jessie would pull, usually dragging Hadji along with them.

"But, Dad," Jessie protested, "We didn't think…"

"Exactly," Race interrupted, "You didn't think."

"But…" she tried again.

"No, Jessica, no 'buts', not tonight. We are in crisis mode here, and the last thing I need is you and Hadji getting yourselves into trouble because you think you can be helpful."

Jessie was taken aback but kept her mouth shut. She could not remember the last time her dad was upset enough to use her full name. Not that she could blame him; the memory of those screams was enough to make her queasy.

Benton sat wrapped in thought, happy to let Race take the lead on this. He had been on an emotional rollercoaster during the last twenty-four hours, and hearing about Hadji's nightmares and the experiment in Quest World were more then he could handle.

"All right," Race said, the ire fading from his eyes, "Tonight was supposed to be fun. Mrs. Evans is making dinner as we speak, and I think we could all use a good meal. So why don't you two go unpack? I'll call you when the food's done."

Hadji and Jessie nodded, retreated to their rooms before Race changed his mind. Race watched them go with a sigh. _Could this day get any worse?_ This time yesterday He had been looking forward to a relaxing week with his daughter and Hadji – a little bit of normalcy. Then Phil showed up and all hell broke loose. He glanced at Benton. He had been holding up better then Race had hoped, but those screams…

"Benton," he said quietly, "We don't know…"

Dr. Quest shook his head, "No, we don't. But those were Jonny's screams, Race."

Race nodded, "He was still having those nightmares when I-1 assigned me."

Dr. Quest clasped his hands together to keep Race from seeing how bad they were shaking, "I don't know what's worse – the thought of Hadji having horrific nightmares for months on end or the thought that everything he heard was real."

Race stood and put a hand on his shoulder, "We can deal with all of that tomorrow." He held up his hand to stop Benton from speaking, "We can't do anything until Agent Lauren delivers the samples, and I think one of Mrs. Evans dinners will be good for everyone. You can't lose yourself in this – not yet."

* * *

"Bandit, come back here," Jessie called, peering through the thick fog that blanketed the compound. After spending all morning pretending to be busy, she had decided she needed fresh air and took Bandit for a walk. Unfortunately, they were barely out the door when he spotted a squirrel and took off. She had been wandering aimlessly for twenty minutes looking for him, but the fog seemed to be getting thicker and a rumbling in her stomach reminded her it was almost noon. With everything going on, her dad would probably call in the Marines if she was not back for lunch. She trudged back towards the house, so lost in thought that she did not even notice the car until it stopped in front of her. A woman hopped out of the passenger's side holding what appeared to be a glorified cooler.

"Excuse me," she called to Jessie, "I'm Agent Lauren from I-1. Is Dr. Quest here?"

"He's in the lab," Race said, materializing out of the fog. "I'll take it to him."

Lauren nodded, handing him the cooler, "Good luck. Dr. Telford is handling everything back at headquarters. He said he would call as soon as he found anything."

"Thanks," Race said. He stood where he was until he heard the familiar *click* of the front gate closing. Clutching the cooler tightly, he hurried to the lab, Jessie hot on his heels. Dr. Quest looked up expectantly as they entered.

"Put it over here," he said, pointing to an open spot on his right. In front of him was a scanner. Jessie had never used it herself, but she knew those scanners fed straight into IRIS. On the other side of the room, Hadji's fingers were flying as he imputed commands.

"Everything is ready to go, Dr. Quest," he said, joining the group.

"Good," He said, pulling surgical gloves on and carefully opening the cooler.

Jessie hung back, not wanting to be in the way, as Dr. Quest removed two metal cylinders from the cooler. One was labeled John Doe and the other was labeled Brandon Holmer. Carefully, Dr. Quest opened the John Doe canister and pulled out a long glass slide. Jessie caught a glimpse of something on the slide before Dr. Quest set it inside the small scanner.

Benton took a deep breath, "IRIS, analyze DNA."

The computer beeped and whirred for a few minutes as they waited. Finally the computer spoke, "DNA analysis complete."

"IRIS, compare sample with DNA of Jonathan Benton Quest."

The room went still, the computer the only sound. The clock on the wall seemed to be standing still, but no one moved. Suddenly, IRIS beeped, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

Benton stared at the floor, hands trembling; next to him Race hissed, shock and rage written all over his face. Clenching his fists, Benton looked at the flashing screen in front of him.

NEGATIVE MATCH…NEGATIVE MATCH.

Author's Note: One again, I promise I have more, but i decided to be mean and leave you here as i continue to work on this story. I promise to add new chapters soon.


	11. Chapter 11

Benton felt his knees give out and would have hit the floor if Hadji and Race had not grabbed him and helped him to a chair.

"Just breath, Dr. Quest," Hadji ordered. Pulling on a pair of gloves, he quickly opened the other canister and placed that slide on a second scanner.

"IRIS, analyze the new DNA and compare with the first sample," he said. They waited another tense couple of minutes for IRIS to finish the analysis, but no one was surprised by the results.

"Positive match." Jessie whispered before asking the question she knew was on everyone's mind, "But, if the body we buried was really Brandon Holmer, then where is Jonny?"

* * *

Race closed his cell phone and tried to swallow the urge to slam his fist into the wall. _He had failed_. Of course, no one was blaming him; Phil had just finished reassuring him that he was in no way responsible for this mess, but Race knew better. When he was first assigned to the Quests, Benton and Phil made it very clear that his sole purpose was to protect Jonny, and, later, Hadji. Now, Jonny was missing and they did not have the first clue where to begin.

"Dad?" Jessie was standing in the door, a worried look on her face, "Are you ok?"

He shook his head, "No, _Ponchita_."

Her eyes flickered to the cell phone clenched in his fist, "More bad news?"

"Yes and no." He put his arm around her shoulder and headed back inside.

Race cringed inwardly at the expectant faces waiting in the lab. They all knew better then to expect good news, but that did not keep them from hoping.

He sighed and leaned against a table, "I just got off the phone with Director Corvin. The I-1 lab ran the same DNA tests we did and got the same results, so there is no mistake there. The body is definitely Brandon Holmer's. Their coroner took a closer look and discovered implants in his face."

"Implants?" Hadji repeated, eyebrows raised.

"Implants, facial reshaping – whatever plastic surgeons do to give someone a new face, they did to this kid. Dr. Telford's not ready to say conclusively, but he told Phil it looks to be top of the line – small incisions, minimal scarring. The few marks he had would not have raised any flags and under the circumstances…"

"No one was going to look too closely at the victim of a motorcycle accident," Benton finished.

Race nodded, "They targeted Jonny. My guess is they put a tracker on his bike, probably while he was home for Christmas. After that, they just had to sit back and wait for the opportune moment. Heading to Florida was icing on the cake. If they were tracking him, you can bet they were tracking us, and probably knew no one would be around for a couple of days. The detour just made their jobs that much easier – drive him off the road, switch the bodies. They knew it would be declared an accident. As long as we believed it was Jonny…" He paused, shaking his head in disbelief, "And they almost got away with it."

"Race…"

"If it hadn't been for that stupid tattoo, Brandon would still be buried by Rachel and Jonny…"

"RACE!" Benton grabbed his shoulders and shook them. His eyes were filled with tears and his voice shook, "We don't have time for that now. Right now, we need to find Jonny."

Jessie stepped behind her dad and put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Tell us what to do, Dr. Quest."


	12. Chapter 12

Director Phil Corvin was furious and taking it out on any and all I-1 employees who happened to cross his path. His assistant, Jamie, was the only one un-phased by his behavior, which was amazing since she caught most of the flack from it.

He pounded the intercom. "Have those files arrived yet?" he growled.

"No, sir," she replied. "I promise they will be on your desk the minute they get here."

He bit back a stinging retort and settled for, "Thank you."

Phil dropped his head in his hands and sighed. It had been four days since they had positively identified Brandon Holmer's body, four fruitless days. There was just nothing to go on – no hospital records for Brandon or Jonny. He had had agents on the phone with every hospital from here to Waikiki but no one could verify that anyone matching Jonny's description had been treated during New Years week. Any data they might have gotten from traffic cameras or satellites was long gone, and the bike itself had been reduced to scrap less then a week after the accident.

* * *

Agent Carlos Ruiz whistled quietly as he strode through headquarters with a coffee in each hand and his latest report tucked under his arm. He was lost in thought, mentally reviewing the report, that he did not notice the general gloom as he walked up to Jamie and set one of the coffees on her desk.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Kercher," he said with his most charming smile and a suggestive look at Corvin's door, "I know I'm a little early, but can I get a few minutes with him now?"

"Not if you want to live." She answered, giving him a brief smile.

"But, when I called last week, he said he'd be free all day."

"Do you like your head?" she asked pointedly.

"Well, yes," he answered, a little thrown by her tone.

Jamie stood and pointed at Corvin's office, "If you go in there now, you'll lose your head, and maybe your job."

Ruiz swallowed and nodded. He tried not to show his agitation as he left the office. The assignment he was working on had been getting stranger and stranger, and he really needed his boss's perspective. What he had discovered at Borrail Industries…he could not shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

"Hey, Carlos," Agent Keith Ramsey slapped him on the back, "Long time, no see. What have you been up to?"

"Stuff," he shrugged, "Hey, I'm famished. Want to grab a bite?"

* * *

Ruiz waited for their food to arrive before demanding, "Keith, what in the world is going on in the building? When I called last week to arrange a meeting with Director Corvin, everything seemed normal. But today…"

"It's this thing with the Quest kid," Ramsey said in between bites, "Corvin's pissed and riding everyone hard for answers no one has."

Ruiz was confused, "But that was months ago – a motorcycle accident, right? Why make a fuss now?"

Ramsey stared at him in amazement, "You need to call in a little more. It turns out the body didn't belong to Jonny Quest. It was some other kid whose face was changed to look like Quest and then dumped at the crash site. Problem is, I-1 only figured this out last Saturday; now Corvin expects us to figure out where the kid disappeared to three months ago, and he wants the answer yesterday." He paused, "But I guess anyone would be that uptight with Race Bannon breathing down their throat."

"Bannon's still on the Quest protection detail?" Ruiz asked, eyebrows raised, "Aren't the kids in college?"

Ramsey nodded, "Yeah, but you know how confusing that whole set-up was to begin with. He's been with the family so long; I don't think they'd know what to do without him. And now with this fiasco…" he shook his head, "You couldn't pay me to be in Corvin's shoes right now."

"Do they have any leads?"

"None. Whoever took the kid was thorough, and it's been so long that any potential leads are long gone." He munched his sandwich thoughtfully, "It really doesn't make any sense."

"Hmm?"

"What's the point of taking the kid if you're not going to use him as leverage?"

"Maybe they planned to."

Ramsey shook his head, "They staged the crime scene to make it look like he died. You don't do that if you're just going to turn around and make a list of demands. No, the kid was the objective. Maybe they were hoping he knew about Dr. Quest's current projects and wouldn't mind spilling his guts."

Ruiz started and glanced nervously at his briefcase. _Could it be that simple? No_, he tried to calm down. _You've overreacting and reading into the situation. But it makes perfect sense_, his mind argued with itself.

Ramsey looked at his friend in concern, "Are you ok, man? You look sick."

Ruiz let his gaze flit between Ramsey and his briefcase before making up his mind. Jumping up, he tossed a handful of cash on the table.

"I'll explain later," he said to a confused Ramsey before running out the door.

* * *

"IRIS, where is everyone?" Race demanded.

"Dr. Quest and Hadji are in the lab, and Jessie is in her room," the computer answered, unruffled by his tone.

"Tell them to meet me in the lighthouse," he ordered, already half-way out the door.

He paced the room, never taking his eyes off the door. It seemed forever before it finally opened and admitted Jessie, Hadji and Dr. Quest in rapid succession.

"What is it, Race?" Benton asked, his voice a mixture of fear and hope.

"I just got a call from Corvin; he might have something and he wants a video conference."

Without another word, Hadji sat down at a computer and quickly typed in a series of commands. The monitor bank behind Race lit up and Corvin's face appeared. He was sitting at his desk, and someone Race had never seen before paced nervously behind him.

"What do you have for us, Phil?" Race asked, skipping formalities.

"Good news, I hope." Corvin motioned to the man behind him, "This is Agent Carlos Ruiz. For the past six months he's been working undercover at Borrail Industries."

Jessie quickly typed the name into her computer and relayed her findings to the group, "Borrail Industries deals mainly in pharmacology – most of the new drugs on the market were created in their labs."

Corvin nodded, "We had reason to believe they were working on performance enhancing drugs for a foreign power, so we sent Ruiz in to have a look."

"What does this have to do with Jonny," Race asked impatiently.

Corvin waved Ruiz forward, shifting his chair so the young agent had the floor. He cleared his throat, "About two months ago, one of the R and D subsections did a one-eighty. They completely dropped what they were doing and got to work producing a new drug – one that could supposedly suppress emotions."

"It doesn't seem overly strange for a pharmaceutical company to try to develop something like that," Benton pointed out.

Ruiz shook his head, "No it doesn't, and it wouldn't have raised any flags if they hadn't delivered a working pill less then two weeks after they started working on it."

Benton was stunned, 'Two weeks? That's not possible. Unless…"

"Unless they had a working formula from the beginning," Corvin finished. "Our lab is working on analyzing that formula as we speak, but I expect it will look quite a bit like the formula you developed for a similar pill years ago, Benton."

He nodded, sick to his stomach as the implications began to sink in.

Ruiz cleared his throat again, "At the time, it seemed odd, but nothing too out of the ordinary. I filed a report with I-1 and went back to my assignment. Things were quiet until three weeks ago. This time half the R and D department was pulled off their current assignments and transferred to a new location. No one knew what they were working on. Last week, I managed to get myself on a delivery truck headed for the site. Apparently, they are building a weapon – a weapon that's supposed to drain the energy out of whatever it's pointed at, according to a particularly chatty computer tech. I managed to get a good look around before security figured out I wasn't supposed to be there. I was floored. For something that was not even on the radar a month ago, they have an amazing amount of information – detailed blueprints, potential flaws, power restrictions – all data that would normally take months of testing to figure out. There is absolutely no way they developed this on their own. They got the specs from somewhere."

"Thank you, Agent Ruiz," Corvin said, repositioning himself behind the table.

"Director Corvin, do you really thing they're getting this information from Jonny?" Hadji asked.

"It's too much of a coincidence," he answered, "And it fits perfectly with the abduction."

"But I know Jonny," Jessie objected, "And he'd never talk about his dad's inventions. He'd let them kill him before he did that."

She regretted the words the instant she said them. She saw Dr. Quest shoulders heave in an effort to control his emotions; Race straightened and his eyes grew hard. Hadji stared at his computer, not really seeing it.

Corvin sighed and rubbed his head, shifting uneasily in his chair. He obviously had more information for them that he did not want to give.

"What aren't you telling us, Phil?" Race demanded.

Phil stared at the screen for a minute before asking, "What do you know about a Dr. Harold Keeler?"

"The name rings a bell," Benton frowned, "But I can't place it."

"We learned about him in my Ethics class last semester," Jessie said. "He ran a mental hospital in Arizona somewhere. He was stripped of his license when it was discovered that he'd been experimenting on his patients – something about trying to recreate memories using a form of electroshock therapy. A couple of patients died from it. He disappeared during his trial."

Her stomach sank as she realized what Corvin was suggesting.

"Phil, what makes you think this bastard has anything to do with Jonny?" Race asked, his voice shaking.

"I've had people combing through the financials for both Borrail Industries and its owner, Steven Borrail, since Ruiz talked to me yesterday. So far the only suspicious thing they found was several large payments from a secondary company owned by Borrail Industries to a Dr. Samuel Weiz. We got a photo of Weiz and ran it through the system; it's Keeler, no doubt about that." Corvin paused, "There is one other thing. Out of his personal account, Borrail paid a large sum to a Dr. George Beck. Before he quit five months ago, Dr. Beck worked for an elite plastic surgery clinic in Los Angeles. According to their HR department, he was one of their best doctors."

The lighthouse was eerily quiet as Corvin's words sunk in. As much as they wanted to deny it, the evidence was overwhelming. Keeler, a monster in human form, had Jonny and was doing who knows what to get inside his head.

"What can we do?' Hadji asked, quietly.

"I need you to dig into Borrail Industries and look for anything that might tell us where they're holding Jonny. Dig into Steven Borrail's background too; Keeler was paid from his personal account, so he's definitely involved. I've got people here working the same angle and between all of you, I'm hoping we come up with something fast."

"Phil," Race hated to ask but had to know, "Is this rescue or recovery?"

"Until we have concrete proof to the contrary, this is most definitely a rescue mission."


	13. Chapter 13

While Jessie and Hadji attacked their new assignment with gusto, happy to finally have something to do, Benton stepped outside to pull himself together. The cool air hit him and he leaned against the building, drawing sharp, ragged breaths. Corvin's revelations were the realization of his darkest fears – his work had put his son in harm's way. As Jessie was reciting Keeler's biography, he had remembered why the name was so familiar. A new MRI machine he had helped develop was being installed at a hospital in Phoenix, and he was there to work out any bugs. The first person they brought in was one of Keeler's patients. The man had been a Harvard linguistics professor, one of the most respected men in his field. When he was admitted to Keeler's institution for severe depression he spoke twenty-five languages and was working on his third doctorate. The man Benton saw did not speak at all; he simply sat where he was placed and stared into nothing. But what really scared him – the reason he remember the man after all these years – was the emptiness in his eyes. The man he once was had simply ceased to exist, living an empty shell in its wake. Benton knew the truth – Keeler was no run-of-the-mill villain; he was a monster who would systematically destroy Jonny from the inside out until he was no longer useful then throw him away. In despair, Benton sank to the ground and sobbed.

* * *

Harold Keeler backed up, shifting positions to keep the small table between him and Steven Borrail, who just stared at Keeler, his eyes hard.

"Why didn't Beck remove the tattoo?" the younger man demanded. "I told you we needed a perfect duplicate."

"It would have taken too long; left too many scars," Keeler stammered, desperate to calm his boss. "Those scars would have raised questions. It seemed smarter to leave the tattoo."

"Well, thanks to that tattoo, they figured out they buried the wrong kid," Borrail snarled.

"So? They don't have the first clue where to look."

Borrail stared at him, his revulsion for the man in front of him written all over his face. "Do you really think that matters?" he asked, "Have you watched _any_ of the memories you've dragged out of him? They will _**never**_ stop looking for him."

"Then let's give them what they want. All I have to do is turn the power on high and snap, crackle, pop – he'll be toast."

Borrail ignored him, looking through the window at the emaciated form in the next room, "Has he given you anything since your last report?"

Keeler shook his head, "He's too weak. Every time I turn up the juice, he just shuts down. I'm not even sure he feels the pain anymore."

"Start packing up; we need to shut this down before I-1 gets too close," he shot one last look at Jonny, "Make sure you've gotten everything out of him."

"And when I'm done?" Keeler asked.

"Make sure they never find him."

* * *

Jessie pounded her keyboard in frustration. It had been two full days since the conference with Corvin, and they still had nothing!

"If you must break something, there is a pile of old equipment in the storage room," Hadji said, glancing at her.

She scowled at the computer in front of her, "Throw in a baseball bat, and you've got a deal."

"And on that note, I want you both to go eat lunch," Race ordered, walking into the room.

"But Race…"

"No 'buts' Hadji. You two were at this all day yesterday and don't think I didn't see you both sneak out here before dawn," Race said. "I'm not asking you to close up shop; I just want you to take a break and eat something."

Grumbling under their breath, Jessie and Hadji headed for the kitchen where Mrs. Evans had steaming bowls of chowder waiting. They inhaled the soup and grabbed some energy bars on their way out the door. Race sighed when he saw them running across the compound barely fifteen minutes after ordering them to eat.

An hour later, Jessie's screen was filled more useless information; sighing, she started deleting the info piece by piece. Suddenly, one of the documents caught her attention; specifically, a sentence. She enlarged it to fill her screen; she remembered seeing it earlier, but after a quick perusal, was dismissed as irrelevant. Somehow she had missed that all important sentence. Mentally kicking herself, she decided to look a little deeper…

"Hadji, look at this," Jessie said a few minutes later, struggling to contain her excitement. She quickly transferred her data to the monitor banks so Hadji could see without looking over her shoulder. "It looks like Borrail Industries – indirectly, of course - owns a large piece of land in the Colorado Rockies. Most of it is just that – land, but over here," she pointed to a corner of the map," appears to be the remains of a mining town. I just looked it up, and the last of the inhabitants picked up and left over twenty years ago. Borrail bought it just a couple of years ago but didn't do anything with it until..."

"About four months ago?" Hadji interrupted.

She nodded, "It looks like power was turned on for a couple of the buildings and – get this – one of those was the old clinic." She paused to let the words sink in.

Hadji grabbed the phone, "Dr. Quest, Race, you need to come out here immediately! I believe we've found something!"


	14. Chapter 14

When they landed at the Aspen county airport the following morning, Corvin was already there, back by two assault teams. He hurried them into a waiting SUV, barely waiting for the doors to close before ordering the driver to step on it.

"Miners Glenn is fifty miles from Aspen," Corvin explained, "If the roads are good, we should be there in just under two hours. One of the assault teams will enter ahead of us; the other is going to circle around and come in the back way on foot. The last scan of the area showed roughly fifteen people, but another satellite will be in range in approximately an hour, so we'll know better then. Once the area is secure, we'll head straight for the clinic."

Race shook his head, "No time for that, Phil. If Jonny's in that clinic, they'll probably kill him the minute they see us. We need to be inside before your men attack."

Phil sighed. He had considered that possibility too, but the clinic was smack in the middle of the town, and he certainly did not want the Quest party killed in the middle of a shoot-out. Still, as he studied the faces of Benton and Race, Phil knew they would go in, with or without him and his team.

"Fine," he said, "We'll head straight for the clinic, with half of the assault team." He glanced at Jessie and Hadji, "I don't suppose there's any way I can convince you to stay in the car?"

They shook their heads emphatically. Race opened his mouth to object, but Jessie said, "If you try to make us stay, we'll just go in as soon as you're out of sight. Let us come and you'll be able to keep an eye on us."

Phil fought to keep from smiling at the defeated look on Race's face. They all knew from experience that Jessie's threat was not an idle one.

"I figured you'd say that, so there are vests in the back for all of you." He focused on Benton for a moment, "If Jonny's there, I promise we will do everything possible to get him out alive."

Benton nodded and stared out the window, willing the car to go faster.

* * *

Twenty minutes outside town, Phil received the latest satellite scan. He scowled at the new data, not liking what he was seeing.

"What is it, Phil?" Race asked.

"Scans show there are only seven people left in Miners Glenn."

"I do not understand, Director Corvin," Hadji said, "Is that not a good thing?"

Race answered for him, "A quick drop like that most likely means they're moving out. They knew we'd be coming."

Jessie tried to hold back the tears, "Does that mean we're too late?"

"Not if I can help it," Phil said grimly. He turned to the driver, "Step on it."

The man didn't need to be told twice. He floored the gas pedal and wrestled the SUV over the pitted dirt road. Ten long minutes later, the town finally came into view.

Phil pointed to a rectangular two-story structure in the distance, "That's the clinic."

"It's bigger then I expected," Benton said, his voice tight with worry.

"According to the blueprints, the first floor is pretty open," Phil said, "The second floor's the difficult one – lots of individual rooms."

"Basement?" Race asked.

Phil shook his head, "Not according to the blueprints on record."

"Don't worry, Benton," Race said, "If he's in there, we'll find him."

"We'll be there in a couple of minutes," Corvin said. "You should probably get geared up now."

The next five minutes passed in a blur as everyone struggled into the Kevlar vests and grabbed a flashlight; Benton and Race also grabbed guns.

The SUV screeched to a halt outside the main doors.

"Let's go!" Race yelled, already hearing the thuds as bullets riddled the top of the vehicle. The assault team provided cover fire as the group, led by Race and Phil, charged in through the front doors, guns at the ready. A quick shot by Race downed a gunman in the lobby. In front of them, the hallway split, running the length of the building.

"We'll go right, you go left," Phil ordered, taking off down the corridor, flanked by two members of his assault team.

"You guys keep close," Race told Jessie and Hadji as their group headed into the hallway, a single member of the assault team covering the rear. They quickly cleared the bottom floor, but hit a wall of debris when they tried to go upstairs. The entire stairwell was blocked with large slabs of concrete. They were soon joined by Corvin and his team who had run into a similar blockage halfway down the other side.

"Was this deliberate?" Benton asked.

"Hard to tell," Phil answered, "The building's old and has been abandoned so long, it could be accidental, but I'm not an engineer. These cave-ins could be Borrail's way of keeping us down here.

"Jonny could be upstairs right now," Benton fumed.

Jessie hung back as the men began pulling at the debris, looking for a way to shift it. She was too pumped on adrenaline to stand still and began unconsciously pacing back and forth, slowly moving away from the group in front of her, back up the corridor. They had turned a slight corner to reach the stairwell, and her feet carried her back around it before she realized she had moved. She clenched her fists, the frustration mounting as she thought of the barrier that stood between them and Jonny. When her anger reached the boiling point, she kicked one of the open doors in frustration. It bounced off the wall behind it and began to swing closed, revealing a door they had missed in their hasty search. Quietly, she eased the door open, holding her breath as she pointed the flashlight inside and illuminated a descending flight of stairs. _How did we miss this?_ She wondered before remembering that the last couple of doors in the hallway were swung all the way open when they found them. _Maybe they were trying to hide this._

"What are you doing?" Hadji whisper made her jump, and she bit her tongue trying to hold in a scream.

"Sorry," he said, "But I was worried when I didn't see you…" His voice trailed off as he saw what she had found.

"We should get Race," he turned to go, but Jessie grabbed his arm.

"Let them work on clearing the stairs. You and I can check it out and get Dad if we find something."

He reluctantly agreed with her, and they quietly crept down the stairs. The first thing she noticed was how clean it was - every surface meticulously scrubbed and polished. Only a couple of the overhead lights were on, giving the whole place an eerie feel.

"I thought Corvin said this place didn't have a basement," she whispered as they tiptoed down the hallway.

"Given how thorough Borrail Industries has been in covering their tracks, I would conclude they exchanged the real blueprints for fakes," Hadji surmised.

They had been cautiously opening doors; every room so far had been empty, but they showed signs of recent use. In front of them, the hallway ended in another door. Hadji eased it open, and they slipped inside. It was pitch black, and Jessie clicked on her flashlight, making sure she kept the beam low. It was slightly bigger then the other rooms they had checked and pretty bare with the exception of the far wall. There was a table loaded with equipment; in the limited visibility offered by the flashlight, it was difficult to tell exactly what the machines were, but they looked like standard hospital fare. The only other thing in the room was a door next to all the equipment. A shadow appeared in front of them, and they froze. When nothing attacked, Jessie cautiously pointed her flashlight in the direction of the shadow; the beam bounced off glass; they had been scared silly by a reflection. Jessie breathed a sigh of relief and tried to fight off the nervous laughter. As she swung her flashlight back over the window, it caught something in the room beyond. She frowned and brought the flashlight up for a better look; something was definitely in there, but the glare off the window made it next to impossible to see.

"Hadji, do you see a light switch for that room?" she asked, scanning the walls.

"I do not think turning the lights on is advisable," he said, looking anyway.

"I know, but there's something in there, and I can't get a good look with my flashlight."

"Why not try the door?" Hadji suggested, "It probably leads into that room."

Jessie hurried over to the door and eased it open. Her heart was pounding, and she strained her eyes to see in the black room. She felt Hadji's hand on her back, encouraging her as they ventured in. As her eyes adjusted, she could barely make out the shape of a table in the middle of the room. She pointed her flashlight at it…and time stood still.

Jessie felt the flashlight drop from her hand as Hadji sprinted across the room to where a body lay, strapped to a table. Slowly she became aware of a scream – her own. It seemed to reverberate around the small space. "JOOONNNNYYYYY!!!!!"


	15. Chapter 15

Author's note: Sorry it's only one chapter. Writer's block and a weekend trip have conspired to keep me from posting more. Thanks for sticking with it everyone :)

* * *

Upstairs, the debris blocking the stairs was not budging. They had spent the better part of ten minutes trying to shift the pile of steel, concrete and drywall and only succeeded in covering themselves in drywall powder.

Race wiped the sweat off his forehead, "Without heavy equipment, there's no way we're getting up this way." He looked back at the small group and scowled, "Anyone seen Jessie and Hadji?"

Benton, Phil and the assault team looked around, finally realizing they were two people short.

Race cursed under his breath, "Spread out and look for them. They couldn't have gone far."

"Over here, Race," Phil called. He dashed around the corner and saw Phil by an open door.

"I thought you said…" Race asked, seeing the descending stairs.

Phil nodded grimly, "This guy thought of everything."

They had just reached the hallway below when Jessie screamed.

* * *

When Jessie light illuminated the body, Hadji instantly knew it was Jonny. Dropping everything, he flew across the room, praying his brother was still alive. He could hear Jessie's scream as his fingers searched desperately for a pulse. It was too dark for him to see what he was doing, and he nearly swore when he realized he dropped his flashlight in his hurry to get to Jonny. Jessie was still standing by the door, no longer screaming, but obviously in shock.

"Jessie!" he yelled, jolting her back to reality, "Get help and find the lights. NOW!" he yelled as she hesitated.

She tossed him a flashlight and grabbed her own as she ran through the adjoining room. Barreling out the door at top speed she ran full force into Race who managed to grab her before she hit the floor.

"In there, Dad," she said, pointing behind her. Race handed her off to Phil as he and Benton bolted through the door.

"Is he alive, Jessie?" Phil asked, already on the phone with the paramedics upstairs.

"I don't know."

"Hadji!" Benton yelled as he and dashed into the room.

"In here," he called, his voice muffled, "The door's on the other side of the room. Hurry," he urged

Both men were across the room and through the door in seconds.

Hadji glanced up as they charged in. "I found a pulse, Dr. Quest," he said, his voice trembling, "but it's very weak, and I keep losing it."

Benton hurried over to his sons. Just as he reached the table, the overhead light flickered on, and Benton grabbed the table edge to keep his legs from giving out. Jonny lay stretched out on top, bare except for a pair of gym shorts. His head had been shaved and something had been surgically implanted in his skull, leaving wires trailing out. The rest of his body was covered with surface electrodes, and a large bandage on his stomach the only remaining evidence of a feeding tube. There were restrains across his chest and legs, and both hands were clamped to the table. His body was emaciated and his skin was nearly translucent, except for the bruises that speckled his entire body. His face was lined and the hallow circles around his eyes bore mute testimony to the pain he had lived with for the past three months. Benton reached down and brushed his head, an unconscious gesture to push aside the absent hair, and bent down to kiss his son's forehead.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

The next five minutes were a blur as the paramedics rushed to stabilize Jonny. Hadji and Dr. Quest worked around them, pulling off the monitors, untying the restraints and cutting the wires leading to the implanted electrodes. It was not until they moved Jonny to a waiting stretcher that they noticed two thin tubes attached to his back – one inserted into his spine, the other directly into his brain stem.

Before leaving Aspen, Corvin had arraigned for a Medivac chopper to be on standby, and it was now only a few minutes out. As gently as possible, the paramedics carried Jonny out of the building; Benton noticed with growing concern that during all the handling and fussing of the last few minutes, Jonny had not moved or given any sign of life apart from the faint pulse.

"Where are you taking him?" Race yelled, trying to be heard above the noise.

"Aspen Valley Hospital. He's too weak to risk taking him farther. As soon as he's stable, they'll probably ship him down to Denver," the paramedic said as they loaded Jonny in. He glanced at the large group, "We've got room for one more."

"I'm going," Benton said, firmly. "Race, you bring Jessie and Hadji back in the car and meet us at the hospital."

Phil nodded, phone against his ear, "I'll make sure there's a security team there to meet you."

"Thank you," Benton said as he climbed into the chopper.

He sat next to Jonny, holding his hand as they took off. He waited for the closest paramedic to settle down before asking, "How is he?"

The paramedic shook his head, "Not good. His pulse is weak, almost nonexistent; his heart rate is dropping, and his breathing is shallow." He allowed himself a quick glance at the distraught father before turning his attention back to the patient. "He's alive, Dr. Quest, and we're doing everything possible to make sure he stays that way."

The trip from Miners Glenn to Aspen took barely twenty-five minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Benton Quest. Unable to take his eyes off Jonny's face, he could not stop thinking about the man he had seen all those years ago. When – he refused to consider "if" – when Jonny opened his eyes again, would they be filled with the same emptiness? He swallowed hard, trying to curb his darkening thoughts. Jonny was alive; right now, that was all that mattered.

They reached the hospital, and he could see people waiting on the roof below. Suddenly, the paramedic who had been monitoring Jonny's vitals leaned closer, a frown on his face.

The paramedic straightened abruptly, cursing. "Get us down there now!" he yelled to the pilot.

Benton felt his own heart stop as the chopper quickly landed. Jonny was transferred to the waiting gurney and rushed to the elevator, surrounded by doctors and nurses. Inside, he was rushed straight to the ER; Benton tried to follow through the swinging doors, but found his way blocked by a nurse.

"I'm sorry, but you can't go in there," she said firmly.

He briefly considered barreling through her but checked himself. "My…my son…"

"Dr. Quest?" another nurse appeared through the door. He nodded.

"I'm Nurse Simms," she said, guiding him to a small waiting area, "We've been expecting you."

"How's Jonny?"

"The doctors are working on him."

"Something happened right before we landed."

She tried to smile reassuringly, but she avoided looking him in the eye, "I assure you, Dr. Quest, your son is in very capable hands. I'm sure someone will be out very soon to update you. In the meantime, I need you to fill out these forms."

She handed him a clipboard and walked away, desperate, he was sure, to avoid any more questions.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's note: Thanks everyone for the great reviews!! There's still a few more chapters to go and i hope everyone sticks with me :). Oh, and I'll say now, I am not a doctor. What I know I learned from watching _House_. Still, I tried to make everything sounds as plausible as possible :D.

oLabyrintho - thank you for pointing out the typo in the previous chapter. I've fixed it, so everything should be good there. Please let me know if you see anything else.

Thanks again everyone.

* * *

The next hour and a half was excruciating. He filled out the forms and turned them over to a waiting nurse and then began to pace, alternately checking the clock and the doors that stood in between him and his son. He saw Corvin's security team arrive and take up position outside the ER, but that did little to ease his mind. He tried to take comfort in the fact that no one came to talk to him; if Jonny was dead, he would have heard something by now. He finally sank into a chair, worn out, and closed his eyes. He wished Race and the kids would get here. He did not want to be alone with his thoughts.

"Dr. Quest?" he jumped out of the chair and found himself face to face with an exhausted man in scrubs. "I'm Dr. Alburn."

"How's my son?" Benton asked, his voice trembling.

"He's in the ICU," Alburn said guardedly. "Come with me."

Benton felt a growing knot in the pit of his stomach, but kept quiet until they reached Jonny's room. Inside, Jonny lay unmoving on a bed, looking eerily similar to how they found him at the clinic, minus the restraints. He settled into a chair next to the bed and gently took Jonny's hand before finally turning to Dr. Alburn. "Will he live?"

Alburn shook his head sadly, "It's too early to tell. His heart stopped right before you landed. He was on the table for over two minutes before we got it started again." He paused, "We got lucky. If it stops again…I don't think we'll be able to save him."

"What's his condition now?"

"He's in a coma. We are waiting on some test results, but it looks like his central nervous system is on the verge of shutting down. His EEG showed minimal brain activity."

"Is his mind gone?" Benton asked, his throat tightening

"I don't know."

For the first time since reaching Jonny's room, Benton gave the doctor his full attention, "You don't know? But you just said…"

"I know. But what we saw doesn't necessarily mean he's gone. I've ordered a more comprehensive EEG, but the preliminary test suggested his brain may be in a state of hibernation."

"I've never heard hibernation used in reference to a human brain."

"Neurological hibernation is extremely rare. All the known cases have been patients who've experienced severe mental and physical trauma. Their brain finally hits overload and begins to shut down. A victim who is sensory deprived would most likely lose the use of the affected senses first, followed by less critical systems, like movement and speech. Piece by piece the brain turns itself off, until the victim is essentially on self-imposed life support."

"For the moment, being in a coma is a good thing. It will give his body a chance to recover. If his brain has simply shut down, as his body heals, his brain should start to wake up as well. But Dr. Quest" he added, "you need to understand how atypical this is. The majority of people in your son's condition either never wake up or are severely handicapped. I only mentioned the possibility of hibernation because of the anomaly on the EEG."

"What can we do?" Benton asked.

"We wait. As soon as he's a little stronger, I want to transfer him to Swedish Medical, in Denver. Their neurology department specializes in neurotrama, and they'll have a better idea how to proceed."

"What about his other injuries?"

Before Alburn could answer, a nurse stuck her head in the door, "Sorry to interrupt, but I have some people out here who insist they need to see the patient."

"Who are they?"

"I only got one name – a Mr. Bannon?"

Benton smiled, "It's ok. They're family."

Alburn nodded, "Let them in, but please keep it brief, Dr. Quest."

A minute later, the door swung open and Race, Jessie and Hadji walked in. Hadji immediately pulled a chair up to the other side of Jonny's bed and quietly held his brother's hand. Dr. Alburn slipped out to give them some privacy.

"How is he?" Race asked quietly.

Benton repeated what the doctor told him. They all sat quietly for a moment, letting it sink in.

"Jessie, Hadji," Race said, "Why don't you two go downstairs and get something to eat."

"Sure, Dad," Jessie said, taking Hadji's hand and gently tugging him out of his seat, "Do you want us to bring you back anything?"

He shook his head. As they slipped out, Race sat in Hadji's vacated chair and stared at Jonny, lost in though.

"What is it, Race?" Benton asked.

"Huh?"

He gave a small smile, "You've been staring at Jonny with that look."

"What look?"

"The one you always have when you are deciding whether or not to tell me something."

Race sat back in the chair and sighed, "Phil called right before we got here. They picked up Keeler. He heard us coming and ran, straight into the arms of the second assault team."

"Where is he now?"

"All Phil would tell me was that he was being taken some place secure for interrogation. He wouldn't tell me where. Said something about needing him alive to answer questions." Race gave an angry laugh, "I told him Keeler could talk fine without his legs. He didn't seem convinced."

Benton grimaced; he understood how Race felt. He had never been a violent man, but if he ever found himself face to face with Keeler…the thought of ramming his fist repeatedly into the man who had brutalized his son was surprisingly pleasant.

They both indulged their dark brooding thoughts until Jessie and Hadji returned. They had barely sat down when Dr. Alburn returned and kicked everyone but Dr. Quest out. Race made sure Corvin's security team had everything under control before grudgingly leaving the hospital.

Benton sat next to Jonny's bed as the afternoon faded into evening, ignoring the hospital staff that appeared periodically to check vital signs and replace IV bags. Eventually, the emotional and physical strain of the past week caught up with him. He rested his head on the edge of the bed and fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

Raised voices outside the room pulled Benton back to consciousness. Before he could move, the door opened and Phil Corvin stormed in, followed by Dr. Alburn, several nurses, and one of the guards.

"Prep him for transport now!" Phil ordered

A flushed and angry Dr. Alburn stepped in between Phil and the bed, "He's too weak to move."

"Then you'd better give him something to stabilize him, because we're moving him tonight."

"If you touch my patient…" Alburn started saying before he found himself against the wall, the other man's angry eyes inches from him.

"This isn't a debate," Phil growled, "If you don't help us get him out of here, you might as well just sign his death certificate."

Slowly Alburn nodded, "I'll take care of it."

"Good," Phil said, finally releasing him. He handed the doctor a file, "When you relay the patient information to the new hospital, I want you to use this name."

Alburn took the file and quickly left the room, shouting instructions as he went.

"Phil, what's going on?" Benton pleaded, leaning over Jonny's body, trying to put some sort of shield between him and the rest of the room.

"Someone just tried to take out Keeler," Phil said.

Benton felt the blood drain from his face, "And you think…"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to take that chance."

The small room quickly filled as doctors and nurses ran in and out. Reluctantly, Benton was forced to let go of his hand and step back to allow them to get Jonny ready. Sooner then he would have expected, they were all in the elevator, headed for the roof.

"Race will meet us at the chopper and stay with you and Jonny," Phil said. "Don't worry about Hadji; we've taken care of him and Jessie. Race can fill you in on the details later."

"Thanks, Phil," was all he was able to get out before the doors opened, and they were being rushed to the waiting helicopter. Race arrived just as they finished securing Jonny and barely squeezed his muscular frame between the bulkhead and the stretcher.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Benton asked Race once they were in the air.

Race shook his head, "Phil arranged everything, but I don't think we're going far."

The paramedics did not know anything either, and the noise from the rotors made talking near impossible, so Benton contented himself with holding Jonny's hand and gently stroking his forehead. Nearly an hour later, he felt the change in pressure as the chopper began descending. Another ten minutes and they were in another hospital room, as a new doctor examined Jonny and compared results with those faxed over from Dr. Alburn.

"What now, Race?" Benton asked, once they were alone.

"We hide here until Phil gives the all-clear," Race said. "By the way, in case Phil didn't tell you, you and Jonny are Louis and Sam Foster until further notice."

"Do you have any idea where we are?"

He shrugged, "Alburn picked the place. Phil said the doc would only sign the transfer forms if they sent Jonny to a particular hospital. Based on how far we traveled, I'd say we're near Denver."

"That makes sense. He said there was a hospital in the area that specializes in neurotrama." He was quiet for a minute before he remembered, "What's happening with Hadji and Jessie?"

"They're headed back to Maine long enough to pack up and head back to school. Phil's assigned them each a bodyguard."

Benton smiled, "I'm sure they're thrilled."

"I'm pretty sure Jessie made a face behind my back, but Hadji was too busy trying to convince me he needed to stay. It took some doing, but he finally realized that pacing a hospital room day in and day out wasn't going to help Jonny. He did make me promise to let him know the second Jonny wakes up."

* * *

Over the next couple of days, as doctors preformed more in-depth tests, Benton learned the full extent of Jonny's injuries. He was malnourished and dehydrated, and all his internal organs were severely bruised. His muscles had begun to atrophy from the months of disuse. There was also the possibility of spinal damage; the tubes the paramedics had noticed when they pulled Jonny from the clinic had traces of some herbal cocktail of Keeler's own invention. According to the doctor, the lab was still trying to identify the different ingredients, but its sole purpose seemed to be causing pain, if the reaction of the lab rats was any indication. Administered straight into the spine, it would lead to a low-level non-stop sensation of pain from his head to his toes. The electrodes implanted in his head were used to deliver electric shocks. They were still there because Jonny was too weak to survive the surgery. The doctors assured him they would be removed at the first opportunity. Burns on his body indicated the shocks had been supplemented by external electrodes. His blood tests showed high levels of PCP and LSD in his system; in his current state, withdrawal would kill him, so he was being given low doses to try and wean him off gently. He had one other injury that puzzled the doctors – three holes in his skull, each barely bigger then a pin. Given the state the boy was in, no one wanted to speculate as to the purpose of those holes. On top of all of this, his immune system was shot, and the doctors did not pull any punches – if he caught so much as a cold, Jonny was dead.

Although he had wanted – and needed – to know everything, Dr. Quest found himself cringing every time the doctors walked in with another test result. If Jonny ever did wake up, he was going to have a long, painful recovery. Until then, there was nothing to do but hope and pray.

* * *

Phil Corvin sat at his desk, clenching his hands together, desperately trying to keep them from shaking. He stared at the blank LCD screen in front of him for a long time before reaching out and ejected a disk. He dropped it on the desk where it joined a scattered pile of papers. The mess in front of him was everything I-1 had salvaged from Miners Glenn, plus the transcripts of Harold Keeler's interrogation. The documents alone had made Phil nauseas; they were daily logs all about Jonny – how many cc's of hallucinogens into his blood; how many cc's of Keeler's pain mix into his spine; how many volts of electricity into his brain; and what information this hellish combination had provided. As disturbing as all that was, the video files on the disk were infinitely worse. There were three files, all from two days before I-1 invaded.

The first showed Jonny, strapped to the table, semi-conscious but obviously in pain. The room must have been pitch black, because the entire recording was an eerie green, like looking through night vision goggles. Phil watched in sick fascination as someone in scrubs, a surgical mask and what he could only imagine were night vision goggle, walked up to Jonny and, after strapping his head to the table, proceeded to insert three very thin, very long needles into his head. Phil was not sure what scared him more – Jonny's low moans or the fact that he was not screaming. _Benton said they found small holes in Jonny's skull_. After the needles were inserted, the person gingerly grabbed the wires trailing out the back of the needles and walked out of the frame. He was back a moment later with IV bags, replacing the empty ones. When he walked off frame this time, Phil heard a door close.

The second video file opened automatically and began to play in sync with the first. The second video showed the observation room; the man in scrubs, now without his mask and goggles, was Keeler. Another person sat behind a table in front of the one-way window, his attention on a series of monitors. Keeler walked up behind him and said, "Wake him up, Rob." Rob nodded and pressed a button.

On the other video, Jonny's back arched as far as it could, his abdomen pressing against the restrains. He let out a small half-scream then fell back on the table and moaned.

In the observation room, Keeler frowned. "Again" he ordered. Rob obeyed and again Jonny screamed in pain, but his eyes stayed shut. Now Keeler began to pace, an unreadable look on his face. Finally he told Rob, "Move it up another two and hit him again." Rob looked a little unnerved and looked at his boss, "Are you sure? That could kill him." Keeler chuckled, "He's dead anyway."

Even on the video, Rob's gulp and shudder were clearly visible as he adjusted a dial and pressed the button again. This time Jonny's eyes flew open as his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Keeler chuckled again as he pulled a headset on; his laugh now reverberated around Jonny's prison, a faceless horror. Jonny's eyes, just beginning to close again, widened, and he began to take shallow, gasping breaths. Whatever was in fluids feeding into his bloodstream was beginning to kick in. His pupils were dilated and he was beginning to shake.

"Good morning, Jonathan," Keeler said, a hint of amusement in his voice. It was clear he enjoyed the terror he was causing. "Time to get to work. I want to talk about your father's satellite communication system."

Jonny's fists clenched, and he screwed his eyes shut as he mouthed, "No, no, no, no."

"Now, Jonathan, none of that," Keeler admonished. He tapped Rob on the shoulder, and Jonny cried out as electricity flooded his body.

"That was a warning," Keeler said, "Now, your father's satellite communication system."

Tears began to trickle down Jonny's cheeks as the third video file opened in front of Phil. It was black for only a moment before shadowy images began to form; over the next minute or so, Phil felt like he was watching the worst edited family video in history. For a moment he saw Jonny as a small boy, playing with his mother on the beach; that was quickly replaced by a clip of him and Hadji playing with Bandit; that was followed by Jonny and Benton working on homework at the kitchen table. These and numerous other bits of memory appeared and disappeared so fast Phil could barely keep up. Soon, the screen faded to black and the only picture came from the first two video files.

Jonny looked almost comatose, eyes closed, no longer crying or making any noise. Keeler frowned, his eyes filled with rage, "What was THAT?"

Rob instantly began trying to pacify his boss, "The kid's exhausted. I don't think his mind can handle any more. Maybe if you wait a couple of days…"

Keeler's calm veneer cracked, and he yanked Rob out of the chair and shoved him towards the hallway door. "I don't have a couple of days," he snarled, "If he can't tell me what I need to know, then he's no good to me." He refocused on Jonny, his voice quivering from suppressed fury, "You little brat. Do you think I'm interested in your happy family moments? You think they care about you? That they're looking for you? I've got news – they're not. And given all the garbage I've watched since you got here, I'm surprised you think they _want_ to find you. Your father is happy to be rid of you; now he can focus on his work and not have to worry about what stupid thing you're going to do next."

Keeler's voice tightened and grew colder with each word, "Your bodyguard, Race Bannon? He seems happy enough now that you aren't around to endanger his precious little girl. And your brother, Hadji? Well, let's just say his star has been rising at an impressive rate without you there to hold him back.

Jonny tried to shake his head only to find it still immobilized by the restraints. His cheeks were covered in tears, and his whole body was trembling. Very softly, he breathed, "That's a lie." Even in the deathly quiet room, it was almost impossible to hear.

Keeler's face twisted into a cruel smile, "Oh, it's the truth all right. You are worthless, Jonathan, and everyone knows it but you; capable of nothing but trouble. Even if they cared about you before, why would your father want you back now? You've told us so many of his secrets; practically screamed at me to take them and leave you alone. You're weak and pathetic.

Jonny was trying feebly to protest but the black screen of the third video began to flicker again, marching relentlessly through a montage of memories. It looked similar to the set Phil saw earlier – clips of Jonny with his family. Unlike the first ones, these moved slowly enough for Phil to hear little bits of audio from each. "Stupid…grow up…you're not a child anymore…that was the stupidest thing…how could you be so dumb…" On and on the voices marched as Jonny unwillingly recalled every reprimand and harsh word. Keeler's sadistic delight grew with each new revelation. He stayed quiet until the last few memories flickered from the screen and then leaned forward and delivered one last blow, "Your father blames you for her death. He wishes you'd died instead."

As Keeler's words echoed around his room, Jonny let out a one last anguished scream before succumbing to the months of torture. Keeler swore and yanked off his headset as multiple alarms began to blare. Rob rushed back into the room and headed for the connecting door as both video files went black.

Phil sat back in his chair, breathing slowly as he willed his dinner to stay in his stomach. They knew Jonny had been through hell, but this…!!!

The disc now sat in front of him. There were going to be questions, hard questions, and Phil needed to think long and hard about how much to reveal. One thing was certain – neither Benton nor Race could ever know about the disc. He grabbed it and dropped it into a small manila envelope that he quickly sealed and placed in a small safe under his desk. He put the rest of the papers into a folder, along with a blank video disc. On the disc sleeve, he scribbled **Damaged. No usable data**. He was well aware that somehow or another, Race would get his hands on the case file; all Phil could do was try to control what information went into it.


	18. Chapter 18

Three weeks later, Jonny was still in a coma, although his lesser injuries had begun to heal. Miraculously, Keeler's herbal cocktail had not caused any permanent spinal damage, and Jonny's immune system was finally kicking in, so the infection concern was alleviated. A physical therapist worked on his atrophied limbs daily, so he would at least be able to move his arms and legs if he woke. The doctors said that if he continued to heal at this rate, in another week or so they would finally remove the electrodes in his brain.

Benton walked briskly down the all too familiar hallways carrying his usual morning coffee. After the first couple of nights, Race had finally convinced him to check in to a local hotel and sleep there, instead of the uncomfortable chair in Jonny's room. He reluctantly agreed, on the condition that Race stay with Jonny when he was not there, and that the hospital would call immediately if there was any change. He had been too jumpy that first night to get much sleep but as the days passed, life settled into a predictable rhythm. He arrived at the hospital at eight; Race would head back to the hotel to get some sleep and be back at one with lunch. Benton would usually take an hour or so to walk outside, enjoying the mild Colorado spring, before returning to Jonny's room until nine or ten.

"'Morning, Race," he said, walking into the room, pausing as he noticed another welcome face, "Phil! What brings you here?"

Phil Corvin was smiling grimly, "Steven Borrail's Porche failed to make a sharp turn as he was driving up the California coast last night. There were no survivors."

Benton leaned against the wall, "Was it an accident?"

"Appears to be."

Race looked at Phil, "And what do you think?"

"I think it's very convenient considering we were hours away from arresting him. Thanks to Ruiz, we had more then enough evidence to convict him of kidnapping, torture, possibly treason."

Benton looked over at Jonny, still in a coma, "Accident or no, I can't say I'm sorry. I just wish he had gotten around to it a little sooner." He made no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice. "What about Keeler?"

"Don't worry about him. He's in a very deep, very dark hole, one he will only leave in a body bag."

Phil paused, "On the plus side, with Borrail dead and Keeler out of the way, we believe the threat against Jonny has been neutralized."

Race smiled, "That's the best news I've heard in weeks."

Benton just stared at Jonny, lost in thought. Finally, he looked over at Phil and Race. "It doesn't make any sense," he said.

"What doesn't?" Race asked.

"All that information Borrail Industries had; all the technical specifications and chemical formulas – they couldn't have gotten it from Jonny."

"Why not?" Phil asked, guardedly. He had been expecting this, but wanted Benton to direct the conversation.

"Because he didn't know that stuff. He could have told them what I was working on; where to find the information; who had working prototypes, but not details."

Phil stared at the floor, afraid to look Benton in the eye. He would not – could not! – show them that video, but they still needed answers. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up, choosing to stare at the wall rather then the two men in front of him.

"One of our agents got Keeler to talk," he said quietly. "As you both know, Keeler's research involved memory retrieval. He was convinced that with the right electrical and chemical stimulation, he could recall any memory. He was on the verge of perfecting his process when the Phoenix operation was shut down. After he skipped out on the trial, he moved around the country, honing his skill here and there, always careful to leave before anyone got suspicious. He said Borrail approached him; asked him if he could force a subject to remember on command, and if those memories could be viewed by more then the subject. He said yes, in theory. Borrail told Keeler that if he agreed to work for him, Borrail would provide him with all the test subjects he needed. That was five years ago."

Race whistled, "He volunteered all this information?"

Phil smirked, "The agent who interrogated Keeler told him that if he didn't cooperate, his next interview would be with you. Apparently, the poor guy couldn't spill his guts fast enough."

He paused, shifting his gaze to Jonny for a second, "He didn't name names but it looks like Jonny was just the latest in a long series of victims. Using a combination of the drugs in his bloodstream and electroshock, he was able to 'encourage' Jonny to remember the times he spent in your lab. The hallucinogens also heightened the details of the memory, making even insignificant details stand out. Using some sort of probe inserted into the brain, he was able to see what Jonny saw – _everything_ that Jonny saw and _heard_," he added, pointedly. "If he was standing behind you, looking at your blueprints or formulas or testing data, then all that was visible to Keeler. Everything you talked about while he was in hearing distance…even if Jonny wasn't able to articulate the memories, he still had all the data stored in his brain. Keeler would access multiple memories of the same research, he would ship the data off to Borrail Industries, and they would begin production."

"So all they had to do was ask him to think about something and the memory would appear?" Benton asked, his voice slightly hopeful. The past couple of weeks, his nightmares had been haunted by the possible tortures Jonny had endured.

A nurse came in to check on the patient, and Phil used the momentary distraction to consider Benton's question. His first impulse was to reassure his friend that Jonny had not suffered excessively. Race had kept him informed of Jonny's condition, and Phil knew that the chances of him waking up diminished with each day, and even if he did miraculously recover, it was very likely that he would not remember anything about his time with Keeler. _Why add to the pain? __**If **__Jonny wakes up, and __**if **__he remembers, then it will be time for explanations_.

He swallowed hard and controlled himself long enough to look Benton Quest in the eye and say, "Yes, Benton. That's all there was to it."

He could feel Race's eyes burning into him and sensed the bodyguard knew he was lying. He held his breath and looked Race in the eyes, willing the other man to accept his response and understand his motivation. It worked because after a long moment, Race looked away and began talking about Jessie's recent complaints that her bodyguard was making dating very difficult. Even Benton chuckled at that, and Phil breathed a small prayer of thanks for Race Bannon.

* * *

_All hospital rooms look exactly the same_ Benton thought as he looked around Jonny's latest hospital room. _Only the view from the window changes_. He turned to get another look at the sparkling blue water on the horizon. After seven weeks, it was good to be back in Maine. Getting the Denver doctors to approve Jonny's transfer to Rockport had taken some doing, but Benton knew in the long run it would be better for all of them. When Jonny did wake up, he would be in a familiar environment, and, until then, being home provided Benton with some much needed distraction. He still spent the majority of the day in Jonny's room, talking to him; sometimes he brought a book in and read aloud, hoping something would reach him. Benton knew that the longer a coma patient was out, the greater chance they would never wake up, and a few weeks ago the doctors had begun talking to him about long-term care for Jonny. However, the latest EEG showed a marked increase in brain activity, and, for the first time, the doctors began to be cautiously optimistic – or, at the very least, no longer overtly negative.

The door opened, and he turned around smiling as Race, Jessie and Hadji walked in. The semester was over, and Race had decided to pick them up himself.

"Was there a problem with the flight?" Benton asked, "I was expecting you a few hours ago."

"No," Race said, chuckling, "Jessie insisted we run home before coming here."

He looked at his daughter, perched on the edge of Jonny's bed, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. She was toting an oversized backpack and trying to subtly slip dog treats inside as she whispered, "Shhhhh".

Benton raised an eyebrow and Race shrugged, "I figured it couldn't hurt."

The door opened and a doctor walked in, 'Dr. Quest, I…" he stopped when he saw all the people in the room.

"Is everything ok, Dr. Lui?" Benton asked, trying to suppress a smile as Jessie frantically hid the backpack.

"Everything's fine, I just wanted to talk with you about some of Jonny's test results.

Benton got up, "Let's talk outside."

As the door closed behind them, Race stretched and yawned, "I'm going for coffee. Do you guys want anything?" A resounding chorus of "no's" answered him.

He was chuckling as he walked towards the elevator, knowing perfectly well that Jessie had released Bandit from his prison the minute the door closed. The poor little dog missed his master, and both Jessie and Hadji thought his presence might help Jonny too. The elevator arrived and he was just stepping on when an alarm went off at the nurses' station, and he heard Jessie and Hadji yelling, "DAD!! DR. QUEST!!!"

Dr. Lui was in the middle of showing Dr. Quest the most recent blood test when Jessie and Hadji yelled. Together they ran back to the room, meeting up with a nurse and Race right outside the door. Inside, Jessie was standing on one side of Jonny's bed, trying to restrain Bandit, while Hadji was sitting on the bed, both hands resting gently on top of Jonny's wrists. He was staring down at his brother, talking in a low, soothing voice, and it was not until Benton moved in closer that he saw why. Jonny's hands were weakly clutching the sheets as he laid there, blue eyes open and filled with unspeakable terror.


	19. Chapter 19

Jonny lay back on the lush grass, soaking in the sun and letting the pain recede into the distance. He had caught glimpses of this place before, during the worst of the pain. Just as things became unbearable, he would see it, flickering, always out of reach. As time went on, the flickering gave way to reality, but there still seemed to be something between them. Finally, in one last explosion of pain, the barrier collapsed, and he walked through. Well, stumbled through is more like it. His legs barely carried him a few feet into the field before he collapsed. He was content to stay where he was; blissfully unaware of anything except that he was safe. He could not explain why, but he knew without looking that nothing could touch him here. Smiling, he closed his eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

When he woke up, nothing had changed. The sun was shining and a light breeze ruffled his hair. Carefully, he pushed himself up and was pleased to discover that he was able to sit. Jonny looked around slowly. The field he was in stretched out in front of him to a lake; behind him it disappeared into a dense forest. Nestled just on the edge of the forest was a small cabin. _A cabin_. Jonny's head snapped back around to take a second look at the little house. There was something so familiar about it. He carefully stood to his feet and slowly turned in a circle, taking in the vista as the memories flooded back.

It was the last summer before his mom died. They had been talking about a vacation for weeks, but every time Benton suggested a place Rachel would say "no". Jonny did not understand why at the time; as long as his mom and dad were there, and they did not try to make him eat any strange food, he did not care where they went. Thinking back, he remembered his mom saying, "A vacation means family time. I don't want to trek half way around the world only to have you disappear into another lab." It was one of the few times he ever saw Rachel upset with Benton. He smiled when he thought about how quickly the idea of a cabin in the mountains was suggested after that conversation. He sighed as he looked around again, recognizing the place where he had spent one of the happiest months of his life. During the day, they would go canoeing on the lake or hiking or fishing. At night, he and Benton would help Rachel make dinner and then play a game or read. He remembered snuggling up next to his dad while he read aloud about Aslan the lion or about Rat and Mole. Then it was off to bed where he drifted off to sleep hearing his parents' laughter. After Rachel died, Jonny had begged his dad to take him back there, but Benton would always shake his head. After a while, Jonny stopped asking, but he never forgot that cabin and the feeling of safeness.

Jonny frowned slightly as he studied the forest. It seemed so dark and sinister, not quite the way he remembered it, but he felt strangely drawn to it. He approached it carefully until he was standing barely an inch in front of the outermost tree. He felt a strange heaviness weighing his limbs down the closer he got; here on the edge it was almost impossible to stand. Gingerly, he placed one foot into the forest…and white-hot pain spread to every corner of his body. He fell to the ground, gasping for air. Looking behind him, he saw the meadow, green, inviting and _safe_. He had only fallen a few feet into the forest and he summoned every ounce of energy and began crawling, desperate to get out of the forest. The pain began to dissipate as he dragged his body back into the sunlight. He did not try to get up; instead, he rolled onto his back and let the sun soak into his body, driving away the last tendrils of pain that still clung to him. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, hand on his forehead, looking around at an obviously empty field. He could have sworn someone - or something - just brushed his forehead. _I'm so sorry_. Those words seemed to echo around him.

He scrambled to his feet and ran, trying to put as much space between him and the forest as possible. He did not pay attention to where he was going until he was almost in the lake. He skidded to a stop and lost his balance, falling backwards and knocking the wind out of him. As he was catching his breath, Jonny became aware of an insidious cold creeping up his legs. Looking down, he realized that when he had slipped, his feet and lower legs ended up in the lake. Pushing against the rocky sand, he tried to scoot away from the edge, but realized with horror that the lake seemed to be pulling back, unwilling to release the tentative hold it had on him. The cold continued to travel up his body as he fought and clawed his way back to safety. He got most of his body back onto the grass and with a burst of fear-driven adrenaline, yanked his feet out of the water. He pulled his knees to his chest and just sat there, trembling. _Where am I?_ He wondered.

He started when he heard someone calling his name. "Jonny." He looked around frantically. He knew that voice; he had heard it in his dreams so many times, especially when the pain was the worst. Finally he saw her, climbing out of a rowboat. She tugged it onto the shore and then turned and looked at him, smiling and holding her arms wide. He ran up and flung himself into her embrace, sobbing as she held him close.

"It's ok, baby," she murmured, "I've got you."

Jonny did not care that he was crying or clinging to Rachel like a baby. His mom had him. His _mom_ had him. Everything was going to be fine. She was not going to let anything hurt him. He did not know how long they stood there, Rachel stroking his hair, her voice soft and soothing. Finally he pulled back and looked at her smiling face.

"Mom," he said, his voice thick, "I missed you."

"I missed you too, baby," she said, pulling him into another hug. This time she was the first to pull away, and she examined his face closely. "You look horrible," she announced, "You need sleep."

He tried to protest, but a head splitting yawn interrupted him and ended any discussion on the matter. He kept his arm tightly around her as they headed to the cabin. The inside was exactly how Jonny remembered as they headed through, straight to his old room. Rachel gently pushed him towards the bed, and he obediently lay down and let her cover him with a blanket. His eyes drooped and through the slits he saw his mom drag a chair over to his bedside, a book in her hand. He drifted off to sleep listening to her read aloud.

She was still in the chair, watching him with a smile on her face when he woke up.

"Did you have a nice nap?" she asked, moving over to the bed and brushing the hair out of his eyes.

He nodded and put his arms around her and kissed her cheek. She ruffled his hair and got up, "I'm going to get us something to eat. Come help me when you're ready."

He smiled, waiting until she left the room before he stretched and climbed out of bed. Clean clothes were sitting on top of the dresser, and he scooped them up on his way to the bathroom. He showered and dressed in no time as the smell of home cooked food began to fill the small cabin. He paused in the doorway, grinning as he watched his mom bustle around the kitchen, stopping occasionally to check the pots on the stove. She was making chicken soup, a special recipe she used when he was sick.

"Don't just stand there; make yourself useful," she admonished, laughter in her eyes.

Something in the back of his mind kept nagging him, telling him that none of this was right - that none of this was real - but he did not care. For the first time in recent memory, he was happy.

* * *

The days all passed in much the same manner. Jonny seemed to be spending a lot of time sleeping, either in his bed or out in the sunny meadow. It was always sunny here; there had not been a cloud in the sky, and he did not think night had fallen once. It was strange if he thought about it, but for the moment he was happier not thinking and just enjoying Rachel's company. He was careful to give both the forest and the lake a wide berth. His memories had slowly retreated out of reach until he could not remember a time before this place. That was perfectly fine with him; the few times he tried he had hit a wall of pain. Vague shadows of memories floated on the edge of the pain, but he could not reach them.

The forest began to call to him. In his sleep, he heard urgent voices, begging him to come back. Some of the voices sounded vaguely familiar; one sounded especially heartbroken as it drifted through his dreams. The lake called too, wrapping his heart in ice and promising rest. During his waking hours, he became aware of Rachel watching him, a sad look on her face.

"Jonny," she said one day, dropping to the ground next to him, "You know we can't stay here."

"Why not?" he asked.

"You know why," she answered. "And your time is almost up. You have to choose."

Jonny shifted so he could easily look back and forth between the lake and the forest. They had both been calling louder and louder with each passing day. He was not sure which scared him more – the pain of the forest or the cold of the lake.

"Which one?" he asked, looking at Rachel with frightened eyes.

She sat up on her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders, "Baby, I can't tell you that."

He shivered, "Mom…I'm scared."

"I know, Baby," she said, kissing his forehead and pulling him close.

He suddenly pulled away, "What about you?"

"What?"

"If I can't stay here, then you can't either. Where are you going?"

She sighed and looked sadly at the lake where her rowboat was still beached. He followed her gaze and understanding hit like lightning.

"The lake…it's death, isn't it?" he whispered.

She nodded.

Jonny wrapped his arms around his body, trying to banish the sudden chill. A quick glance at the sky revealed that the sun had disappeared, replaced by rapidly darkening storm clouds. He continued to glance back and forth between his choices. Everything in him screamed to stay away from the lake, but if that is where Rachel was going...he looked at the forest again, and something in his mind broke free. He saw his father, face drawn and haggard, looking decades older then he should. Jonny's mind expanded, and he saw himself in a hospital bed. He did not know why he was there, but he knew that was the reason for his father's altered appearance.

"He's suffered so much," Rachel said softly.

"He misses you," Jonny said, "We both do."

"He misses you too, Jonny. He needs you."

Suddenly, the sky above opened and with a crash of thunder, rain began pouring down in sheets.

Rachel's tone took on a desperate urgency, "Please, Jonny, you have to decide." She turned and headed for the lake.

"What if I don't?" he shouted, following her and trying to push away the fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

She stopped walking long enough to turn and look him in the eyes, "Then you'll be trapped here – your mind in limbo until your body can no longer sustain itself."

"But…" Jonny looked at his mother, "I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't," she reassured him, "No matter what you decide, I'll be waiting for you."

She turned and sprinted the remaining distance to her boat, Jonny hot on her heels. She climbed in and watching him, the indecision on his face clear.

Jonny stood on the grass, his heart breaking and his head throbbing. He wanted to go with her; he missed her so much. He could not let her leave him again. Then he looked back. What about his father? How could he leave him? His father had lost so much already. The storm the raged around him grew in intensity until he could barely see more then a foot in front of him. Still, he stood there, oblivious to Rachel's voice, now panicked, urging him to choose. A massive bolt of lightning split the sky and illuminated the scene; in that moment, Jonny made his choice.

He ran to the rowboat. "I love you, Mom," he shouted, "Don't worry; I'll see you soon." She smiled and leaned over, kissing him, "I'm so proud of you, Jonny; tell your father I love him." He nodded and pushed the boat into the water, standing on the banks as she vanished into the storm. A crash of thunder brought him back to the moment, and he dashed across the field. The ground seemed to get cling to his feet with every step and the wind blew straight at him, making forward movement almost impossible. The only thing that kept him moving was the image of his father…waiting…_hoping_. After what felt like an eternity, he reached the edge of the forest. He paused only long enough to catch his breath and gather his courage before he plunged ahead. He knew that if he waited, fear would paralyze him. Already the pain was pulling him down; sucking him under; he fell to his hands and knees under the weight of it. Memories began to play around the corners of his mind, competing with the black spots that danced in front of his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled onto his back, vaguely aware of voices. The world seemed to shift around him; the rain stopped, but he still felt cold; the pain seemed to shift, transferring all its power to his head. He could barely move his limbs, but the worse was the terror that filled him. It drove everything else from his mind. A sudden wetness on his face startled him, and he opened his eyes…


	20. Chapter 20

Author's note - Sorry this took so long to get up. Trying to exterminate roaches takes up a lot more time then i thought, especially when the clean up involves washing every dish in the kitchen :). Thanks again to all the wonderful readers who leave me wonderful reviews - especially **TMMEOW1,** **JadedSnowTiger,** **Zeilfanaat** and **Rin. **

* * *

The joy Benton Quest felt at seeing Jonny awake was quickly crowded out by concern as he watched the terror in his son's face. He sat on the side of the bed and gently maneuvered Jonny's head to where he could look straight into his eyes.

"Jonny," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and even. "Jonny, it's ok. You're safe now."

His words went unheeded, as Jonny's eyes continued to frantically search the room, looking for something that was not there. Jonny tried weakly to pull his head away, moaning softly. Hadji had moved so the doctor could examine Jonny.

Benton tried again, "Jonny, it's Dad. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you." For one brief moment, Jonny's blue eyes met his, and he could have sworn there was a flash of recognition. For that one moment, the terror vanished, and he could see his son. The next moment, Jonny's eyes closed again.

Benton looked at the doctor who smiled, "Don't worry; he's just sleeping." He stood up and quietly checked the monitors. "He'll probably be out for a while, Dr. Quest."

Benton sat back with a sigh. He knew the Dr. Lui was right, but he could not help worrying. The look in Jonny's eyes had scared him, and he would not be able to settle down until Jonny woke up again. Hopefully, the terror he had seen was simply an involuntary mental reaction to the physical trauma of being in a coma, and not related to his ordeal. The scientist in Benton knew he was being naïve and grasping at straws, but the father in him desperately wanted those straws to be the truth.

* * *

Jonny felt like a boulder was sitting on top of him. The terror had retreated a while ago; it refused to leave, but curled up in a small little corner of his mind, waiting to strike again. He decided to ignore it for the time being; he had no idea what he was supposed to be so afraid of anyway. Right now he was more concerned with why he could not seem to move his body. _Maybe I ran into a tree_. He, Hadji and Jessie had gone skiing a few days before Christmas, and he _had_ been going a little faster then he should down a narrow run. He frowned mentally; it made sense, but he had a vague memory of packing his skis up and having a warm cup of chocolate in the lodge. _Hmmm, so that would probably be a "no" to the tree theory_. He tried to think of another reason why he could move – or wake up. He had been trying like crazy to open his eyes for what seemed like hours. On top of that, there was a highly annoying beeping somewhere. It sounded a little slow to be his alarm clock, but what else would it be? _And I'd bet anything the boulder on my chest is Bandit_. He groaned. _That dog needs to go on a diet_. He groaned again and noticed, happily, that the fog seemed to lift a little.

"Jonny." He heard his dad's voice. "It's time to wake up, son. You've slept long enough."

Finally, Jonny pried his eyes open, and found himself looking straight into the very concerned eyes of his father. He opened his mouth to speak and realized just how dry his throat was. He tried to motion for water but was disturbed to find that he could not raise his arm more then an inch or so. Jonny was relieved that his father understood what he was trying to say.

"Don't try to talk yet," Benton advised, placing a hand on Jonny's shoulder, "Hadji's gone to get some ice."

The ice chips relieved him somewhat, and he tried again to speak. "Wha' hap?" he croaked. His voice sounded strange and the words were hard to form.

"It's good to see you awake, Jonathan," Dr. Lui announced cheerfully as he walked in the room.

Benton noticed a momentary shadow pass through Jonny's eyes when the doctor said his name, but it was gone so fast that he wondered if it was just a trick of the light. Why would the sound of his own name frighten him?

The doctor chattered aimlessly for a few moments while he checked the monitors before he sat down next to his patient.

"Can you tell me your name?" he asked.

Jonny frowned a little as he tried to form the words, "J…J…Jona…" His frowned deepened and he paused. "Jonny Quest," he finally managed to spit out.

"Good," the doctor said, ignoring Jonny's fumble over his full name. "Can you tell me what day it is?"

Jonny thought hard for a moment before guessing, "Jus' af'er Chis'mas?" He groaned and pounded the mattress weakly. Why did he sound like a two-year-old?

Dr. Lui smiled sympathetically, "Don't worry; your voice is just a little out of practice. Give it a few days, and I'm sure you'll be talking fine."

Jonny looked at his dad and asked again, "Wha' hapn'd?"

"You crashed your bike," Benton said, hoping his son accepted the half-truth.

Jonny thought about it for a second before nodding slightly, "How bad?"

Dr. Lui answered, "You got a pretty bad knock on the head, young man. You've been in a coma."

"How long?" Jonny asked, trying to fight the sleepiness that was pulling him under. He locked eyes with his father and let his eyes do the pleading as he asked again, "How long?"

Benton sat there for a minute, secretly wishing Jonny would fall back to sleep before he had to answer, but saw the look in his son's eyes and knew that was not going to happen.

"Seven weeks," he answered.

Jonny's eyes widened in surprise for just a moment before exhaustion claimed him.

Benton looked at Dr. Lui expectantly as Jonny drifted off again. The doctor ignored him while he made notes in Jonny's chart. Finally he sat down in one of the chairs and motioned Benton to join him.

"Physically, he's recovering much better then anyone expected," Dr. Lui began, once Benton was settled. "There seems to be some slight damage in one of his legs, most likely caused by his accident and exacerbated by his ordeal. He'll walk with a limp for a while, but if he's consistent with his physical therapy, he may be able to work through it. Apart from that, the rest of his body has healed well. Once he's more alert, we'll run some more tests to see if there is any brain damage."

"His speech?"

"Just like I told him. He hasn't used his vocal cords at all for seven weeks, and who knows how often during his three months in captivity."

Benton hesitated for a moment before asking, "And his memory?"

Dr. Lui shook his head, "It's too early to tell. I'm actually impressed with how much he does remember. It's not uncommon in situations like this for the patient to lose years of his life. Usually those memories return fairly quickly, but Jonny seems to remember almost up to the time he was taken."

"And the rest of it?"

"Time will tell. It would certainly not be a surprise if he repressed those memories, but with all the physical and mental trauma, it's also likely that he won't remember anything about that time."

"What can we do?"

"For the moment, just help him get his strength back. That's more important right now. When he asks about those three months, be vague. Trying to force him to remember will impede his physical healing as much as his mental healing."

Benton nodded. He understood, and secretly hoped Jonny would never remember what happened.

* * *

Jonny slept for most of the next week; the limited time he was awake was spent convincing his family that he was fine and begging the doctors to get him into physical therapy. After the end of that first week, he was more alert, and, thanks to the hospital bed, was able to change to a sitting position. The doctor had also removed the feeding tube, although once Jonny saw the pureed food he was going to be eating, he almost begged them to put it back in. He was also slightly concerned; his lack of memory bothered him, and he assumed it would bother his family as well. He had been told that he had been in the coma for seven weeks, but that still left three months of his life unaccounted for, and no one was rushing to fill in the details. He had even cornered Hadji one day and tried every trick he knew to get his brother to tell him what was going on, but Hadji managed to dodge everything Jonny threw at him and got out of the room without saying anything. The best he could get from his dad was vague answers about school. He sighed and weakly managed to pull the blankets up to his chin as he settled in for the night. _Maybe I'll remember more tomorrow…_

* * *

_BAM…he fought to control his motorcycle, but knew it was a losing battle. He saw the guardrail moments before smashing through it…felt his bones snap as he hit a rock…now he's moving again, but everything's dark…_where am I?_...harsh lights accost his eyes and his body screams in pain as people in surgical masks hold him down; he feels a prick on his arm and everything goes black…PAIN…EVERYWHERE...the darkness is back, but he's alone except for the voice…always taunting…always laughing…his mother's blood…_I'm sorry, Dad, I couldn't save her_…_Your father blames you; he wishes you'd died instead_…someone's screaming._

Jonny thrashed in his hospital bed, screaming as the nurses desperately tried to wake him from the nightmare.

"Sedate him," the head nurse finally ordered, after several minutes. "Inject him directly," she added, seeing the other nurse head for his IV, "It'll be quicker."

As the needle pierced his skin, Jonny's screams filled with raw terror. Despite his weak body, it took both nurses to hold him on the bed as adrenaline coursed through his body. He managed to rip out one IV and reopen the wound from the feeding tube before the sedative finally kicked in.

* * *

When the family arrived the next morning, they were surprised to find Jonny still asleep and Dr. Lui deep in conversation with Doctor Martin Walker, the family physician.

"Martin, it's good to see you," Benton said, shaking his friend's hand, before turning to the other doctor, "Is Jonny ok, Dr. Lui? He's been awake the past few mornings, so…" The question died on his lips as he saw a look pass between the two doctors. The room descended into an uncomfortable silence as Benton looked from one man to the other, waiting for an answer.

Dr. Walker finally stepped forward, putting a hand on Benton's arm and motioning him towards a seat, "Jonny's been sedated, Benton. He had a nightmare last night that he wouldn't snap out of and managed to do some damage before the sedative could do its work."

Dr. Lui held up Jonny's arm to illustrate the point. It had a massive bruise from where the nurse injected him, and a bandage to stop the bleeding after he ripped out the IV.

Benton swallowed and looked back at Dr. Walker, waiting for him to continue. "I was in the hospital earlier, visiting a friend, when I ran into Dr. Lui. He knew that I was Jonny's regular doctor, and he asked me to consult, especially since I had experience dealing with Jonny's nightmares in the past."

Benotn nodded distractedly. Yes, if Jonny was having nightmares again, then Dr. Walker was the best man to help him. After Rachel's murder, Jonny had begun experiencing horrific nightmares. Benton shudder slightly as he recalled the blood-curdling screams that woke him almost nightly. He had hoped the move to Maine would help, but, if anything, they got worse. Jonny refused to sleep alone, but even spending the night in his father's room did little to ease his terror. Finally, a colleague recommended that he take Jonny to see Dr. Walker, a general practitioner in the area. Benton had had his doubts about Dr. Walker's ability to help his son, especially when he discovered the man did not have any sort of degree in psychology, but after one particularly bad nightmare left Jonny with a fractured wrist and multiple bruises, Benton made an appointment. To this day he could not say exactly how, but Dr. Walker was able to help Jonny recover physically and emotionally, and sooner then anyone thought possible, the nightmares faded. Now, as Benton took his usual seat by Jonny's bed, he prayed Martin Walker would be able to provide another miracle.


	21. Chapter 21

Jonny leaned his head against the pillows and tried to shut out the droning voices around him. _A few nightmares and everyone flips out_ he grimaced. He had had nightmares for three straight nights; after that, Dr. Lui had started giving him heavy-duty sleeping pills. He could not remember much about the nightmares, but apparently, they were bad enough to scare the doctors, nurses, and, by proxy, his own family. _Not that I blame Dad or Race, or even Dr. Walker_. He remembered all too well the months after Rachel's death when he would wake up screaming, seeing blood everywhere. The big problem was, when he mother died, he knew why he was having nightmares. He had no idea why a simple motorcycle accident would cause them. Dr. Walker had given him some excuse about the coma and regressive memories, but Jonny knew there was something no one was telling him, and it did not take a genius to connect the nightmare with his missing memories. _If I could only remember!_ He had thought long and hard, but the last thing he remembered was standing on the dorm room at NYU watching the New Year's fireworks. Also, he could not shake the cold fear that washed over him every time a stranger came into the room, or he received an injection, or – strangest of all – when someone called him Jonathan. He had always liked his name, but now it seemed tainted somehow. Fortunately, Benton had noticed his discomfort, and everyone, even the hospital staff, called him Jonny.

The droning voices, and his own exhaustion, combined to lull him off into his first un-medicated sleep in a week.

* * *

_He tried to move his arms, but they were strapped down tight. He felt something tighten around his forehead but couldn't see who or what. Suddenly, his head exploded in pain, taking his breath away. He reacted physically, fighting against the unseen restraints. He felt something brush the top of his head before his head exploded again; he fought harder against the restraints, trying to release the scream trapped in his throat. The pain subsided for a moment, and he collapsed, panting and waiting. As the white hot pain shot through his head a third time, he opened his mouth and screamed…_

Benton felt his heart stop as Jonny screamed. He had seen his son nod off a few minutes ago, but decided to let him sleep. Now he could not rouse Jonny fast enough.

"Jonny," he said urgently, shaking his son's shoulder, "wake up."

Jonny stopped screaming, but was still locked in his nightmare as he tossed his head back and forth on the pillow, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

_The pain shifted, draining from his head, down his spine. From there it spread through his arms and legs until every inch of his body was trembling. He bit his limp, trying to hold back the whimpers, but they came anyway. The tears began to slip down his cheeks as he prayed for death. _

Race lightly smacked Jonny's cheek, trying to bring him back to reality. He had experience trying to wake Jonny up from his nightmares, but none of that seemed to be working now. Race laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and shook him, flinching and drawing back sharply when Jonny began to whimper…

…_Then he heard IT – a laugh. It echoed around the room, and he could taste the malevolence. The terror came back now, flooding his mind and drowning out the pain. He fought against the restraints as adrenaline coursed through him. He could feel himself being pushed back onto the table, and he fought harder…_

Hadji swallowed hard as he tried to calm his trembling hands. Jonny's eyes were open, but filled with terror once again. The whimpers had stopped and he was fighting now, scratching and clawing at the hands that were trying to keep him on the bed. Benton and Race combined were having a hard time restraining Jonny, and Hadji moved back towards the bed to help…

_The voice laughed again before abruptly changing tone. __**"Stop!**__" it commanded, and he obeyed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. "Tell me what I want to know!" the voice ordered, punctuating the command with another wave of pain through his head. He clenched his jaw against the pain and shook his head. The pain came in waves, one after the other with no respite. He was too weak to do anything; there was no fight left in him. "Please," he gasped, "Please stop. I'll tell you anything. Just please, no more."_

Jessie was curled up in a corner, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched her friend. The nurses had been busy with another patient; no one had expected Jonny to have a nightmare during the day, and now they were scrambling to get the sedative up to his room from the pharmacy. She had heard his screams from the nurses station, and ran back to be with him. "Please." She stood up quickly and moved to the edge of the bed, unsure if she had really heard the whispered words. "Please stop." This time, everyone heard the words and reflexively stopped trying to wake Jonny up until they realized he was not talking to them, but to a faceless terror. "I'll tell you anything," he begged, "Just please, no more."

_Suddenly, the whole scene shifted. He was no longer strapped to the table, but standing as images swirled around him like a tornado – memories of his family. He relaxed for a moment, almost enjoying watching his family in happier times. He blinked and the images changed. There was nothing warm and caring here; instead, everyone seemed to be looking at him with contempt and disgust. Slowly, their words reached his ears. "You are worthless…we're happier without you…you do not care about anyone but yourself…stop being such a child…worthless…useless…" On and on it went, as the swirl of images tightened around him until all he could see was a blur of color. Just as quickly as before, everything changed, and he was once again strapped down. "They don't want you," the voice mocked. "You should have been stronger; you shouldn't have told me anything. He blames you. He wished you'd died instead." The laugh seemed to echo forever as he laid his head down and closed his eyes, whispering, "That's not true. I tried to stop them; I tried to save her."_

Benton had given up trying to control his tears as he listened to Jonny's heartbreaking pleas. He could only imagine the scenario playing itself out in his son's mind. With one last strangled cry, Jonny woke up suddenly, slightly unnerved by the faces surrounding him. He was still shaking and was happy to let his dad hold him as Benton reassured him, "It's just a dream". Jonny knew better though. He remembered.

* * *

Author's note - According to my muse, i can't torture Jonny indefinitly so we're in the home stretch now! Another two (maybe three) chapters should wrap this all up nicely. Thanks for reading (and reviewing ;).


	22. Chapter 22

Author's Note: Ok, I owe everyone a big apology. I have no excuses whatsoever for not finishing this weeks ago. Actually, this chapter has been finished and ready to go for over two weeks now, but I refused to post it until I had the next and final chapter finished as well. That's where the writer's block hit hard. So, I apologize and hope that everyone will enjoy these last two chapters.

One other quick note for The Black Muse: I'm glad you enjoyed it and welcome feedback and suggestions. I am sorry i could not incorporate your's into the story. I hope you like it anyway:)

* * *

Jonny tried to smile and pretend that everything was fine. Maybe if he could convince everyone else that he really was ok, he might start believing it himself. At the very least, they might start treating him normally. Fortunately, his physical therapist said he was making such rapid progress that his family might be able to take him home in a few weeks. He was not pretending when he said that was the best news he had heard in a long time. He was sick of being in a hospital, and he imagined his dad felt the same way. Benton had been there at some point every day since Jonny woke up four week earlier, not to mention the time he had been in the coma. G_etting out of here will be best for everyone_ he decided. His family was no stranger to hospitals, but this time it had been too long. Besides, he needed some place where he could escape from the watchful eyes of…well, _everyone_. It seemed like day or night, there was always someone with him, or checking on him, or asking him if he needed anything or – worst of all – if he wanted to talk about it.

The day after that horrible nightmare his father had come for a solo visit. He apologized to Jonny for not being honest with him from the beginning; the doctors thought that his recovery would be slower if he was forced to face the memories. Then Benton asked if he wanted to talk about it, and Jonny did something he had never done before – he looked his father straight in the eyes and lied to him. He told Benton that that last thing he remembered was being forced off the road in Virginia. He waited for his dad to call him on the lie; to demand he see a therapist. Instead, after a long moment, Benton simply nodded and changed the subject. Jonny was still unsure if his father believed him, but at least he was not forcing the issue.

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to stay with you?" The question brought Jonny back to the present. His dad was standing next to the bed, waiting for an answer.

"Huh?" Jonny asked.

"Are you sure you don't want someone to hang out here and keep you company?" Benton asked again.

"No, Dad. Thanks, but you guys go and enjoy your dinner," he held up his hand to forestall the argument, "I'll be fine, Dad, and you all deserve to get out of this place for a little bit."

Benton debated pressing the issue, but seeing the look on Jonny's face, decided to let it drop. "Ok, but we'll be back in an hour or so. Call if you need anything."

Jonny grinned, "I think I can manage. Have fun."

He waited until the door was firmly closed before letting the grin slide off his face. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, exhausted. He heard the door open, and anger surged through him. _Why can't they leave me alone for ten minutes?_ he fumed.

"I _told_ you I was fine," he snapped, not bothering to open his eyes. "Now, please, just go to dinner and leave me alone."

"That's not very nice, since I've been lurking outside for days, waiting for an opportunity for a private chat," Phil Corvin chuckled as Jonny's eyes flew open. "But if you insist I leave…"

"No, no," Jonny said quickly, "Sorry, I thought they'd come back and…" He grinned sheepishly.

Phil gave his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and looked around for a chair, giving Jonny time to look the man over, giving his face some extra scrutiny.

"You know," Jonny said. It was not a question.

Phil sank into the chair with a sigh, "How could you tell?"

"Your eyes. You feel bad for me; maybe a little worried, but sympathy is the dominant emotion."

Phil shook his head; he always forgot how perceptive this kid was. He gave Jonny a sad smile, "How's that different from your family? Aren't they sympathetic?"

"Yeah, but more then that, they're scared, especially after seeing me go through the nightmare."

"That's understandable."

"Understandable, yes," Jonny sighed, "But it's driving me nuts. Everyone tiptoes around me like I'm a bomb about to explode, and Dad keeps looking at me with this hopeful yet nervous look on his face. I know he wants me to talk, but I…I just can't," he ended in a whisper. He looked at Phil, "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"Actually, Jonny, I'm glad you are, because this is exactly why I came. You're right about one thing – I know. I know a heck of a lot more then your family does, and I've been waiting for a good time to talk with you. I thought it might be a little easier for you to tell me then tell Benton."

He watched as Jonny processed what he was saying. After a minute, Phil leaned forward and asked quietly, "How much do you remember?"

Jonny leaned back against the pillows and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for while as Phil sat patiently for him to begin. "I remember leaving for Florida. They were doing roadwork in Virginia and we got detoured off the highway. My GPS battery was dead, so I was flying blind and ended up a pretty desolate road. I wasn't on it too long before another car hit me and ran me off the road." He grimaced a little as he remembered bouncing off those rocks.

"It's a little blurry after that. I think I woke up in an ambulance or something because there were people standing over me talking in medical jargon. I woke up again in a room with really bright lights and more people talking. I do remember one thing very clearly – I wasn't in pain."

"Why is that important?" Phil asked, certain he already knew the answer.

"Because," Jonny said, "Until I woke up here that was the last time I was pain free."

Phil winced at the bitterness in Jonny's voice, "If you'd rather not talk about it, I understand…"

Jonny cut him off, "No, I need to tell someone before I go crazy."

"Ok, but take as much time as you need; I'm not in a hurry."

Jonny managed a grin, "Thanks Mr. Corvin." The grin faded as he stared at his hands which were absently playing with a blanket. Again the room was quiet.

"Pain," Jonny said, breaking the long silence.

"I'm sorry?" Phil said, slightly startled.

"You asked me what I remember – I remember pain and lots of it. I have pretty clear memories of my early time there. I don't know how long it was. It could have been days or weeks before everything started to run together and get fuzzy."

Phil listened, trying to control his rage, as Jonny described being forced to relive his mother's murder again and again until he gave them the information. Both were so focused that neither had noticed the door slowly open.

"After they found out what they wanted to know about a certain piece of technology, I wasn't asked any questions for a couple of days. Instead, I was treated to a few days of pain," he grimaced, "worse pain then usual – mind numbing, chew your own arm off pain. According the Voice, the treatment was supposed to clear my mind of whatever memories they had just dug up. Apparently, this made it easier for them to get me to think about whatever was next on the agenda."

"The voice?"

"Yeah. I assume he was in charge, but I never saw anyone. The entire time I was there, I never saw a single person. The room was dark, so someone might have been in the room with me, but I couldn't tell. The Voice was the only human contact I had…if you can call that human." Jonny pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He focused all his attention on the tray at the bottom of the bed and began talking to that.

"I remember when they finally got the drug formula out of me, but after that everything gets hazy. I remember lots and lots of pain, but it was blunted. I think I lost my eyesight, but it was so dark, I couldn't tell. I'm not even sure I was conscious for a long time."

"So, you pretty much draw a blank on the rest?" Phil was relieved.

"No," Jonny said, quietly, "I remember one day. I think it must have been right around the time you guys found me, because it's the last thing I remember before waking up here. The Voice was asking me about Dad's satellite system. I don't know why I didn't just give him what he wanted." He gave a dry, mirthless laugh. "I guess I'm just as pigheaded as Dad always said I was. Even when I knew that they would get what they wanted in the end; even when I knew there was nothing I could do to stop them from reaching inside my brain and taking it by force; even then I still tried to fight. Normally, the Voice would just laugh, mocking my feeble attempts, but not that day. No, that day he got mad. He started screaming at me, telling me…"

Jonny stopped abruptly, chewing his lip. For a brief moment, the twenty year old was replaced by a small boy.

Phil sat on the edge of the bed and put a comforting hand on Jonny's shoulder, "It's ok. You don't have to tell me; I know."

Jonny looked at him questioningly.

Now it was Phil's turn to minutely examine the wallpaper. "They recorded your…sessions. After we rescued you, we found a disc that hadn't been sent to Borrail Industries. It only had one session on it; we think it was the last one they had time for."

Jonny's eyes widened in fear, "You didn't…"

Phil cut him off, "No, I didn't show it to your dad, or Race. They don't even know it exists."

He nodded, relieved, but continued to chew his lip as he looked back and forth between Phil and his own hands. Finally he asked, haltingly, "It…it wasn't…_true_…was it?"

"No!" Jonny jumped a little at the fire in his voice, but Phil did not back down. He had known Jonny since he was a small boy; he had watched him grow up. "No, Jonny, everything he told you was a lie; you know that. Your father loves you."

"Then why did it take so long to find me?" Jonny said, suddenly angry, "Why was I abandoned for three months while that…that _monster_ tortured me? He – the Voice – tormented me, Mr. Corvin; he reached inside my head and forced me to relive the worst moments in my life – no just once or twice, but daily; sometimes hourly. And he enjoyed every minute of it. That laugh echoes in my head; I can't stop thinking about it. I'm scared to go to sleep because every time I close my eyes, I'm right back on that table."

Jonny's voice had been getting steadily louder until he was almost shouting, "At the beginning I fought so hard because I thought you guys were just a step behind me. Every time I woke up to pain shooting through me I thought that, maybe, this was the day; maybe, someone was going to save me. But you know what? No one came. I still fought, but as time passed, it didn't seem so important. I finally realized no one was coming. When I finally accepted that, I just wanted to die, but first I needed to know why. Well, I got my answer that last day. Sure, I fought back out of habit; I tried to deny what he said, but it all made sense."

"No…" Phil interrupted, but Jonny just continued his rant, oblivious to everything.

"He was right – I was weak. I begged him to stop; told him I would say anything he wanted if he would just stop hurting me. I've pretended for years that I was an adult, but when push came to shove, I was nothing but a child – a little boy begging daddy to make everything better. I was a coward; a sniveling little coward. I'd have sold out each and every one of you for an hour's reprieve from the pain and memories.

He stopped, heaving in ragged, gasping breaths, and Phil spoke quickly, desperate to make Jonny hear him.

"Jonny, everything he told you is a lie," he said firmly, "You _know_ that. The reason it took us so long to find you is because we thought you were dead."

Jonny's head whipped up, eyes wide. Phil watched as disbelief and relief battled for dominance. He used the confusion to press ahead. "The people who took you were thorough. They rigged your accident scene with a fake body wearing your face. If it hadn't been for a tattoo and an old friend, we might never have known. As it is, we didn't realize the switch until you'd been gone for almost three months. Once we knew, everyone worked night and day to find you. I don't think Benton or Race slept."

"But…he…he said," he chewed his lower lip, "He said they were happier without me, and no father would want a son like me. He said it was my fault. That Dad blamed me for her death. Maybe he was right; maybe everyone would have been better off if I'd died instead of Mom." Jonny's voice finally broke, and he began to sob.

There was a commotion by the door, and Phil was stunned to see Benton and Race standing there. He had no idea how long they had been standing there, but by the look on their faces, he guessed they had heard more then enough. Race turned and walked off as Benton hurried towards the bed, and Jonny suddenly found himself wrapped in his father's embrace, holding him close as he cried.


	23. Chapter 23

Race strode down the hallway, clenching and unclenching his fists, his eyes blazing. He did not stop until he was outside and away from the hospital. After what he just heard, he could not guarantee that he would not hurt someone just for looking at him wrong. They had already gotten to the restaurant when Benton realized he had left his phone back in Jonny's room. He and Race had headed back, intending to just grab the phone and return. Race had panicked momentarily at the voices coming from Jonny's room under he recognized Phil. He and Benton had both had a hard time keeping their seething anger contained as they listened to Jonny talk about his ordeal. He paced back and forth, willing himself to calm down. He wanted to see Jonny, to wrap the kid up in a hug and promise him nothing was going to hurt him, but that was his father's job right now, not Race's.

Race grabbed his cell and scanned the address book until he found the number he was looking for. "Frank Holland? It's Race Bannon. I need a favor."

* * *

Harold Keeler hunched his shoulders and stared at his feet as a guard escorted him from his cell to an interrogation room. He kept his eyes glued to the floor until he heard the door slam shut. When he finally looked around the room, he was surprised. The previous times he had been interrogated, the rooms had been blindingly bright; this room was lit by a single flickering overhead bulb. He glanced at the one way mirror and looked right through it to the empty observation room. The slight unease he had felt coming in here was turning into a churning ball of worry. This was not right; this was not normal. Suddenly, he heard movement behind him. Turning around, his stomach tightened, and it was all he could do to keep from vomiting. Slowly, a white-haired man in a red polo walked out of the shadows. Smiling coldly, he bent down until he was eye level with Keeler.

"Hello, Harold."

* * *

"WHAT HAPPENED**?" **Phil roared at Agent Sam Marlow. Marlow was the liaison between the agency and the supermax prison that housed the criminals they apprehended. Phil was standing in a corridor of that prison, right outside an old interrogation room.

Marlow shrugged his shoulders, "Don't know. The guard said he was told to bring Keeler to this room and come back in an hour. He did like he was told, and saw the same thing you saw."

Harold Keeler sat in a corner of the room, knees drawn up to his chest, rocking slowly as he mumbled to himself. There was not a mark on him, but the man's mind was clearly gone. The only intelligible thing anyone could make out was the word "red". He sighed as he saw the psychiatrist entered the room. Keeler was going to spend the rest of his life in a padded cell; Phil did not need a professional opinion to tell him that.

Marlow took a quick look inside to make sure there were enough guards to escort Keeler wherever the doctor wanted him. Everything was in order, so he turned and briskly walked away. He had told Corvin the truth; he had no idea what had happened in that room. Now, if the director had asked if Marlow had gotten a phone call from his old friend Frank Holland…or if Holland had asked to set up a meeting between Keeler and Bannon…or if Race Bannon had been slipped a false key card when he arrived…or if Marlow was glad the sociopathic doctor was going to spend the rest of his life in a straight jacket…but Corvin had not asked him those questions, and he certainly was not going to volunteer the information. He smiled to himself as he stepped out of the prison into the cool night air and headed for his car. As he reached for the door, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

Race stepped into the small pool of light cast by the street lamp. Sam Marlow stood in front of him, hand on the car door. Race nodded his head slightly, his eyes conveying his gratefulness. Marlow smiled and nodded in understanding. Race backed into the shadows and waited for the other agent to climb in his car and leave before turning and jogging to the other end of the lot where his own transportation was waiting.

* * *

Jonny lay in the tall grass, his eyes closed, soaking in the warm sun. Suddenly, a back and white torpedo landed on his chest, briefly forcing the air from his lungs. Sitting up to catch his breath, he smiled and scratched Bandit's ears. The little dog barked and ran circles around Jonny before running away only to return moments later with a small rubber ball that he obliging threw as far as his still weak muscles would allow. Bandit managed to give his master a disgusted look before trotting after the ball that lay barely twenty feet away. He picked it up and headed off in search of a playmate with a better arm. Jonny grinned and looked around. A small sailboat broke the surface of the lake, with two small dots on board that he guessed were Hadji and Jessie; good smells wafting from the cabin told him Race was hard at work grilling steaks for dinner; he did not see Benton, but figured he was probably inside the cabin, catching up on work. He smiled as he lay back down. They only had a few more days here before Jessie and Hadji headed back to school. Part of Jonny wished he was heading back to NYU, but he had a tentative promise from his dad to let him go back after Christmas _if_ he did everything the doctors, therapists, shrinks, and overprotective family members told him to do.

His dad. His thoughts instantly went back to that night at the hospital.

_He had cried for what felt like hours while Benton simply held him. _

_He continued to cling to Benton as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so, so sorry."_

_Benton pushed Jonny away from him far enough to look into his eyes, "You have nothing to apologize for."_

"_But I…I…" he swallowed and tried to look away, but his father's hand under his chin kept him from doing so._

"_Jonny," Benton said firmly, "I want you to listen to me. You did _nothing_ wrong. _None_ of this is your fault. I don't care what you told him. If giving him my inventions kept you alive or spared you even a second of pain, then I'm glad you did. I would part with everything I own for you or Hadji. You two are my world. Do you understand me?"_

_Jonny nodded, the truth of the statement reflected in his father's eyes, but there was one more thing he needed to know._

"_Dad," he whispered, "Do…do you blame me for what happened to Mom?"_

_He did not think he had ever seen Benton's eyes get so hard so fast in the moment before he was drawn into a bone-crushing hug that answered his question much better then the low, growled "Never" that accompanied it._

Race was absent all day, not showing up until lunch the following afternoon. He would not tell anyone where he had gone, but Jonny saw a knowing look pass between Race and Benton. After that, life seemed to settle into a more normal routine. He spent the next couple of weeks in the hospital, building back up his muscle tone until he was at least able to walk to and from the bathroom unassisted. He also began meeting with a shrink daily; fortunately, he was able to talk Benton – and the psychiatrist – down to only three sessions a week by the time he was discharged. His nightmares also began to get better; he still had one or two a week, but he was not screaming out loud or waking up in a cold sweat. Going home – being able to sleep in his own bed – was great. Unfortunately, it also meant the press knew exactly where to find them. They were home for barely a week before Race suggested that an undisclosed vacation spot might be the best place to spend the rest of the summer. Benton agreed and Jonny suggested the cabin. Even he was not sure why; he just had a vague sense of security associated with it that was hard to explain. Fortunately, no one asked for a reason, and all agreed that a cabin in the mountains was perfect.

He stuck to the cabin and meadow for the most part, unable to articulate the unease he felt near the water or in the woods. Luckily, he had thrown up and nearly passed out the first time he forced himself on to the small sandy beach that surrounded the lake, so no one was pressuring him into water-related activities. Subsequently, the forest did not seem nearly as bad, and he was able to control the discomfort long enough to take a quick hike. After that, he decided to play the I-am-still-recovering-from-a-coma card and spent the rest of the vacation relaxing in the hammock behind the cabin or out in the field, usually with a book or his laptop. Jessie still tried to talk him into joining her and Hadji for whatever activity was planned that day, but everyone else was content to let him do his own thing.

_They probably wouldn't be so nice if I showed the slightest inclination to go off on my own_. He smiled to himself. So far, everyone had been very accommodating to his request that someone always be visible. Hadji had even agreed to share a room with him – although the fact that the cabin only had three made that kind of a moot point.

"Want some company?"

A familiar voice dragged him back to reality, and he gave his dad a big grin. "Sure."

Benton gently lowered himself to the ground next to Jonny, wincing slightly as his joints reminded him exactly how old he was. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun move closer to the horizon as the sky slowly changed from clear blue to fiery reds and oranges.

Benton reluctantly broke the silence, "How are you?"

Jonny thought about the question for a second before finally shrugging his shoulders, "Physically? Great, although Bandit may decide to become Jessie's dog if I don't improve my throwing arm. Mentally?" He paused, chewing on his lower lip as he considered his answer. "It's going to take time. I still hate being alone, hate the dark, and strangers terrify me." He held up a hand to keep his dad from interrupting, "But I'm getting there. I know it's going to take time, and I'm not going to get better overnight. Being here has helped, and I think I'm ready to get on with life."

"Why here?"

He shrugged again, "It felt safe. I know it sounds crazy, but the last couple of weeks it's felt like Mom was here with us. After she died, I wanted to come back here so badly, but you kept saying no, and after a while I kind of forgot about this place." He fiddled with a long blade of grass, "I think I came back here when I was in the coma."

Benton refrained from commenting, letting the silence stretch as Jonny continued to play with the grass. He knew that given enough time and space, eventually Jonny would say what was on his mind.

"It sounds crazy but I keep having these dreams. It's just me and Mom here at the cabin. At first, it's like we're here on vacation – we play games, I help her with dinner, or sometimes we just sit outside, watching the clouds. Then it starts to rain, and she runs away, down to the lake. There's a rowboat on the beach, and she climbs into it. I want go with her, but I can't. She tells me I have to go back; she says you need me. She hugs me and tells me she's proud of me and loves you. Then she's gone, and I wake up."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, using the movement as a distraction while he fought against the tears that threatened to fall. "The craziest part about it is after I wake up, I feel content. It's almost like I finally got a chance to say goodbye. At the same time, she made me come back. I don't think I could have done it without her."

Benton draped his arm across Jonny's shoulders and gave them a quick squeeze. "No, Jonny, I don't think that sounds crazy at all."

Jonny smiled and drawing his knees up to his chest, rested his chin on them. For the first time, he began to believe that he could see a light at the end of the tunnel. He was not out of the woods yet, but he had hope for the future.

"Jonny! Dr. Quest!" Hadji called as he jogged over to them, "Race says dinner's ready, and if you aren't there in five minutes, he's eating it all."

Jonny turned to Benton, "We'd better go. I saw the way Race was looking at those steaks earlier and wouldn't put it past him to carry through on his threat."

Hadji grinned and offered Jonny a hand up.

Benton raised an eyebrow and frowned playfully, "What! You offer to help the kid and leave your poor father to fend for himself."

Jonny laughed, "Hey, I'm still in recovery. Besides, Dad, we both know that you hate to be treated like the old guy you really are."

He laughed again and took off as fast as he could, followed closely by Hadji. Benton grinned as he watched the two of them. _Jonny was right. He has a long road ahead of him. This won't be fixed in a day or a week. But he will recover. He believes that and so do I._

He looked down at the lake, a shimmering pool of gold in the sunset. "Thank you," He whispered softly, "Thank you for giving me him back to me."

* * *

Author's Note: That's all folks! Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. I'm probably going to take a break now, but I have plenty of ideas begging to be written, so I probably won't be gone long.


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